Spaceship NOLA

Pride & Prejudice and loving my view from the audience

2012-02-05T18:10:00.000-08:00

Well, it's Super Bowl Sunday, and you know what that means...a stage version of Jane Austen's Pride And Prejudice! The theater was packed, so I guess there is hope for humanity ;)

I enjoyed the show. At first it seemed rather fast-paced and rushed, because the way it was adapted for the stage called for very quick transitions between scenes. Night became day, weeks passed by in an instant while stagehands dressed as maids whisked chairs on and off without so much as a break to dim the lights. But I soon realized that this was probably necessary to fit all of the important plot points of the novel into the play. It still ran nearly three hours, as my Mom (who attended with me) and I were shocked to discover once it was over. Mom was sad that her favorite line "I cannot abide a mountain" was not included in the adaptation.

Overall, I think this was a wonderful achievement for Swine Palace over at LSU. The casting was so well done that I instantly knew which actor was playing the principal roles before any of them spoke.

I recognized several actors from the play David and I saw at Swine Palace last spring, The Metal Children. I was also very excited to recognize two actors from shows I'd seen in New Orleans, at Southern Rep and Tulane Shakespeare. One of these actors was playing Mr. Darcy, and I'd seen him in King Lear (as Edgar) and Macbeth (in the title role). I'm annoyed with myself for leaving my program behind in my mom's car, because now for the life of me I can't remember the man's name. He has blown me away in everything I've seen him do. I will even say that he gave Colin Firth a run for his money as Mr. Darcy, and I love me some Colin Firth. Anyone reading this who can identify this brilliant actor, please comment.

The only negative aspect of this show for me was the large physical reactions and expressions that the actors often displayed. I think one of the joys of Jane Austen's work is that the characters must restrain their emotions and behave in a manner appropriate for society, but their true feelings come through in their witty words. Their was some scoffing and shrugging and eye-rolling going on that I thought was not necessary, and took away from the power of Austen's dialogue. Since this was happening across the board, I think it must have been a directorial choice. Sadly, one of the major offenders here was the actress playing Lizzy Bennett. I could tell she was a talented actor, but I didn't get Lizzy's sharp yet subtle wit from her performance. Her Lizzy seemed less confident than I imagine the character to be. Again, she was clearly talented, but I was disappointed in the choices taken.

I was thinking today about how much theater I've seen in the past couple of years. My pregnancy, and now baby care, prevented me from participating as much as I'd done before, and as a result I'm more often an audience member. I was surprised to discover that I love it. When I was younger, I couldn't see a show without wishing I was in it (unless I hated it). My desire to be involved eclipsed my enjoyment as an observer. That is no longer the case. Now I find myself loving the chance to get lost in the story as only an audience member can.

This is not to say that I don't miss participating - I do. But in the meantime, I enjoy this phase of my life, where I can sit back and watch and soak it all in.

food food food

2012-01-27T13:52:00.000-08:00

Well, I guess there is a first time for everything. Today at Whole Foods I had a rude cashier. Usually they're so nice! Weird.

Here are a couple of my current food obsessions.

I got some of this almond milk yogurt today, and tried the coconut flavor. IT WAS AWESOME. Looking forward to trying the other kinds.I love peanut butter, and Earth Balance with flaxseed is the best peanut butter I've ever tried. It's natural, but doesn't have to be refrigerated. Seriously, it's the best.

Recipe: Savory chickpea stew

2012-01-24T19:49:00.000-08:00

When I was a kid, my mom used to make stew with leftover chicken and gravy. This is my vegan version of it. I suppose you could use fake chicken strips if you want, but I use chickpeas because I tend to always have them in the pantry and I love them.

Savory Chickpea Stew

Ingredients:
1/2 cup olive oil
1 medium onion, chopped
3 cloves garlic, minced
1/2 cup whole wheat flour
2 Tbsp Nutritional Yeast
4 Tbsp Bragg's Liquid Aminos (or soy sauce)
6 cups veggie broth or water
2 carrots, chopped
2 stalks celery, chopped
2 potatoes, chopped into 1-inch cubes
3 cups cooked chickpeas (or 2 cans, drained and rinsed)
1 tsp sage
1 cup frozen peas, thawed
salt and pepper to taste

1. Heat the oil in a large pot over medium heat. Add the onion and garlic, and cook about 5 minutes.
2. Add the flour, nutritional yeast, and liquid aminos. It will form a thick paste.
3. Gradually add the broth, stirring to mix well.
4. Add the carrots, celery, potatoes, chickpeas and sage. Bring stew to a boil, then reduce heat and simmer until vegetables are cooked, about 30 minutes.
5. In the meantime, make some biscuits! Here's my favorite recipe: http://vegweb.com/index.php?topic=4745.0
6. Before serving, add the peas, salt and pepper. Serve with biscuits.

Yet another thing to scold pregnant women about

2012-01-22T19:31:00.000-08:00

So, I read this article from the LA times via Balancing Jane (who has a good analysis of it), and I find it annoying on several levels.

Basically, the theory is that the obesity epidemic was caused by pregnant women in the 50s and 60s doing three unhealthy things: smoking, striving to gain as little weight as possible, and not breastfeeding.

First of all, though the article briefly mentions the growing popularity of fast food, suburban culture that leads to more driving, etc., it seems to come to the conclusion that these 50s and 60s moms are a larger cause of increased obesity. I have my doubts about that.

Further, the article clearly states that doctors were telling women to do these things. If that's the case, why don't we call a spade a spade here and blame doctors for the obesity epidemic? But no, we can't do that, of course. Because they're always right (well, except for all those times in the past when they were wrong, but they're right now! So listen to your doctor. Remember, they're smarter than you). It must have been those naughty pregnant women acting up again. Don't they care about the children?

Also, the expert behind the theory flat-out states that overweight women should not have children. I'd rather that jerks not have children, personally. Because, I don't think that being fat is so horrible that we should try to make sure fat people are never born. This is not to say that it's not important for individuals to try to be healthy - I'm a bit of a health nut, myself - but come on. I mean, let's look at this "unhealthy" generation that was born in the 50s and 60s - I know some excellent human beings that were born in those decades! Some of them are even *gasp* fat! And if they want to try to do something about that, that's up to them. But I'm glad they're on this planet, regardless.

There are many systemic causes for the health problems we're currently facing. I think our priorities need to shift to value health more. Blaming it all on mothers is both incorrect and unfair.

Parenting and happiness (or lack thereof)

2012-01-20T07:44:00.000-08:00

This is a very interesting article in NY Mag about whether kids make one happier or not, and I like this analysis of the article on the Golden Notebooks blog as well. As the article mentions, I sometimes worry that I'm not spending enough "quality time" with Anton. Because, these days, he spends a lot of time either in his ridiculously festooned "activity center" or his Jolly Jumper. He seems to enjoy them, but I feel guilty sometimes for not coming up with bonding/educational activities all day long. Yet, he seems content, stopping every few minutes to look up at me and grin.

Does he make me happier? That's a complicated question. I've heard people say that if you don't have kids, you'll never know how much you could love someone. I think that's true. My love for Anton is a different kind of love than I've ever experienced. But it's also scary sometimes, to love someone so tiny and vulnerable. It causes me a lot of worry.

I certainly have moments of joy with him - many of them, every day. I like taking walks with him, giving him baths, snuggling in the morning, etc. In this way, ours is one of the most rewarding relationships I've ever had. But I don't so much like trying to figure out why he's fussy, trying to get him to sleep, and having him cry while I'm attempting to cook dinner.

But then, isn't that always the way, with someone or something you love? I think about my relationship to theater. There were certainly times when I was so busy and stressed and disappointed in others' behavior, and disappointed in my own results that it seemed absurd that this was something I was choosing to do, for very little (or no) money. Yet, I adore theater. I miss it, when I'm not involved. I would never quit theater for good.

I think the article's focus on the importance of useful, productive activity is a good point. I disagree with the idea that children's lives should be all play and fun. I like the idea of working on something with Anton someday, like a theater project...teaching him "the trade" and all that. His father feels the same way about getting him interested in science, I think.

And, interestingly, having Anton gives me more moments of feeling accomplished, simply because doing anything while caring for a baby feels like an achievement. So when I manage to write a revised chapter for my novel, cook a fabulous dinner, complete a workout DVD, etc., I feel pretty damn good about myself. In less busy times of my life, I often wasted all day online or whatever and didn't get anything of substance done, and that made me depressed. Having too much free time can be dangerous. Knowing you only have an hour or so before the baby wakes from a nap can be an excellent motivator.

So, am I happier overall? I know I'm happy not to be pregnant anymore. I know I'm happy to be married. And, while I don't always feel that I "have it all" (who does?), I know that I can't even imagine my life without Anton, now that he's here.

A new low for football fans.

2012-01-19T20:09:00.000-08:00

When I lived in the French Quarter, I found the college football crowds to be pretty intolerable. And yeah, living in the Quarter and complaining about obnoxious drunk people is kind of like, I don't know, moving to Alaska and complaining about the cold? But seriously, they took it to another level. Still, I was very disturbed when I heard about this "teabagging" incident that happened after the big LSU-Alabama game in New Orleans last weekend. Seriously, what possesses a human being to treat another human being like that? Watching the video was pretty horrifying for me. I said to David, "this is sexual assault."

Well, the NOPD agrees, and is taking it seriously. And now the perpetrator has turned himself in, and has already lost his job, and I hope he faces criminal charges. Because sexual assault is not a joke, and it doesn't matter what team your victim roots for, or how drunk they are, or if they're a man. I'm glad that message is getting out, because while I wish that people would treat each other decently, and not seek to degrade and punish others simply because of alcohol consumption and football team affiliations, that is clearly not going to happen, so maybe criminal charges will be a deterrent - especially in this day and age where it seems everything is being filmed.

My favorite vegan cookbook

2012-01-19T07:59:00.000-08:00

I own 15 vegan cookbooks. I love vegan cookbooks. But I love this one the most.

This is my Betty Crocker/Joy of Cooking/all-purpose cookbook. Of course, I love Veganomicon as much as the next vegan, and Vegan Soul Kitchen has some really interesting stuff, but this one takes the egg-less cake because there are so many recipes that don't call for rare or expensive ingredients. It's really accessible and simple to find something yummy to make, mostly with stuff I already have on hand.

I decided to count how many of the recipes I've tried in the year or so that I've owned this cookbook. The result? 23. Only 23! That means I have 977 more to try! There are entire sections of the cookbook I haven't even explored!

Since I've been on my soup-for-dinner kick, I've been stuck in that section quite a bit. I tend to stick to soups with some kind of bean in them, since it's all we're having for dinner and I want to make sure we get some protein. The split pea and minestrone I've made several times. Last night I made the "Mulligatawny" soup, which incorporated some of David's favorite things (cilantro, Granny Smith apple) and some of my favorite things (coconut milk, lentils, ginger), and it was fabulous, if a bit on the labor-intensive side.

I don't know how Robin Robertson came up with 1000 Vegan Recipes, but I am very grateful that she did. If you only buy one vegan cookbook, this should be it! I would also recommend this to non-vegans who want to incorporate more veggies and healthy stuff into their lives.

That thin line between dream and reality

2012-01-08T07:50:00.000-08:00

So, the dream I had last night was a pretty good dreamworld interpretation of my life right now.

I was at a party hosted by my Aunt and Uncle (who live in Massachusetts, I have no clue where we were supposed to be though, because it was this building with endless hallways and rooms that I've never seen before). There was lots of food, but I couldn't find anything vegan. Various relatives took turns holding Anton while I searched for something I could eat. My sister told me there were several huge pizzas in one room, but of course they all had cheese on them.

I would see something that looked vegan, only to find it wasn't once I put it on my plate. For example, what I thought was a plain salad turned out to be a Caesar salad, and cut up fruit turned out to have cottage cheese on it.

Then, somehow, there was an NTI reunion going on in the same building. We were divided into groups, and given a scene to work on and present. My group's scene was from Shakespeare's Coriolanus. The group decided I should play the title character. But then I realized I hadn't seen Anton in what seemed like hours. I searched all through the building, running into various relatives, and none of them could remember when they'd last seen him, or who had been holding him.

So I ended up full of anxiety, wanting to find him but knowing my group was waiting for me to rehearse our scene. I was also worried that if I didn't nurse him soon I would leak onto my shirt and therefore fail to portray a male character convincingly (ha!).

I began to wake up, and realize that Anton was sleeping next to me. I was torn between relief that he wasn't lost and sadness that I had to leave the dream world before I got to act in the scene from Coriolanus.

Where there's smoke...

2012-01-03T13:51:00.000-08:00

I went into town to go mail some Paperback Swap books, and, on my drive back, noticed a huge plume of smoke ahead. I worried at first, wondering if it could be coming from my neighborhood. But as I came closer, I saw that it was a pile of recently felled pine trees, burning away. There were dozens more piles - a huge swath of woods had been rapidly cut down. A sign proclaimed that it was the site of the new "Evangeline Trace" subdivision.

My heart fell. If all these trees had to die, couldn't they at least be used for something? I had heard about "slash and burn" practices in the rainforest, but I was honestly ignorant that it happened so close to home.

And then I turned into the "Livingston Trace" subdivision, where I live.

I almost wrote "not really by choice" after "where I live" in the sentence above. Because, sure, this isn't where I would choose to live - my husband bought this house before we met. But that was just me trying to make an excuse for my part in this whole thing.

I'm vegan, we cart our recycling into Baton Rouge once a month, we compost, we use cloth diapers and napkins, I do Paperback Swap...but it all seems so insignificant when I'm forced to really see the kind of environmental destruction caused by my lifestyle. I'm sure there's so much more I'm still ignorant about.

Things I used to do, like walking or biking for work and errands, aren't even possible with this new suburban lifestyle. The roads are narrow, with no sidewalks and ditches along them which make it dangerous. Besides, there's nothing within walking distance.

I don't want to be a part of this, but I feel powerless.

Why do smart women defend schmucks?

2011-12-28T06:40:00.000-08:00

I've been reading all this stuff over at Feministe about this Hugo Schwyzer person (with whom I wasn't familiar before this), and my first reaction was annoyance and dismay at seeing several women (feminists, even!) defend someone who, to me, comes across as a narcissistic schmuck. To be fair, most people there are *not* defending him, but I was unhappy that some still were. Why would women do this? I asked myself.

And then I had to admit, I've done it too. Not online, but in "real life," which is arguably worse. I've known some narcissistic schmucks in my time, and some of them immediately disgusted me, while others I befriended and defended. They could be such nice guys, you see. They were in a lot of pain, you see. But most of all, if I am to be completely honest, it was about how much they seemed to like me. Using flattery to charm people is a really basic charmer tactic which should be obvious, but I have certainly had blind spots in this area when I was the one being flattered. It seems Mr. Schwyzer does help some feminist women promote their own work, and I could see how after receiving that kind of assistance could make one less able to see Mr. Schwyzer's flaws. [It is important to note the huge heap of privilege that put Mr. Schwyzer in such a position to "help" others, because, no, I don't think it's just luck or brilliance that gave him such a relatively big platform.]

There's also the fact that Mr. Schwyzer claims to have reformed from a past that included womanizing and addiction. And I will say that forgiveness is a big part of my personal value system, so I don't think he should necessarily be written off for his past. The problem, as I see it, is that although he may be sober, he is still locked in this dynamic of trying to get adoring female attention and causing harm while doing so. Which is not very feminist.

So, while my first instinct was to join the chorus of "he sucks and you suck if you defend him," I'm trying instead to find a lesson in this (blame it on that Dalai Lama book I just read!). Here are some things I think are helpful, at least for me, in the quest to NOT be a schmuck-defender:

1) Take praise graciously, but with a grain of salt. Humans are social creatures, and if feels good when we or are work is admired by others, and that's fine. It can help give us the confidence to keep moving forward. But it isn't everything. Constructive criticism can be more helpful in terms of actual improvement. And consider the motives of the person giving the praise.

2) Forgive when possible, but don't excuse or forget. And if you want others' forgiveness, know that simply admitting the wrongs you did and feeling ashamed are not heroic acts you deserve a medal for. You don't even "deserve" the forgiveness of those you wronged. That is their decision. And then, regardless of whether you are forgiven, making amends is an active, ongoing process that doesn't end with the confession. If someone keeps apologizing while continuing their harmful behavior, call them on it, and/or remove them from your life, depending on the situation. People CAN change, and they probably need the feedback of caring but firm people to help them continue to grow. They do not need ego-stroking or to be placed in situations that will tempt them to revert to old behavior patterns (like Mr. Schwyzer's job teaching young women).

3) Examine your own internalized misogyny. This is a big one for me. I can definitely not claim to be free of the desire for male approval. I need to actively remind myself that a compliment from a man is not more valuable than a compliment from a woman. It's OK for certain men not to like me. Men don't deserve "extra credit points." It sounds ridiculous, but it's old programming I still have to fight.

4) Avoid being a schmuck by working to eliminate defensiveness. This is a huge, huge one for me. When I'm criticized, I sometimes catch myself forming my rebuttal even before the other person gets through a sentence. My husband has called me on this before. Most of the narcissistic schmucks I've known had very well constructed walls of denial built around themselves, so not even the tiniest reproach could get through. I don't want to be like this. So I think it's key to listen to criticism from people who care about me. Not random jerks or abusive people or whatever. But people who care about me have an outside perspective on me, which I can never have. I don't always have to think they're 100% correct, but I should at least listen and give it some thought.

Soup.

2011-12-21T12:11:00.000-08:00

We're on a soup-for-dinner diet. I decided to do this in the hopes that it might counteract any holiday treat-eating. And also because the ingredients tend to be cheap. And also because most soup recipes feed us for at least two days, so I don't have to cook something new every day.

I figure I'll stick with it until we get sick of it.

So far I've made a curried red lentil and butternut squash soup, split pea soup, minestrone, and mafe (African peanut stew). We usually have homemade bread too (I have a bread machine and make a whole wheat flax bread).

I sometimes joke that I'm going to write a book called "Eat Like A Peasant," which will be all about staying healthy by eating rice and beans and soup, etc. Hey, if people want to eat like cavemen, maybe they'd go for eating like peasants, right?

(And if the first book was successful, I'd then write "Parent Like A Peasant," because I get so annoyed with the suggestion that only rich people should have kids, when many rich kids I knew had not-so-great parents and turned into depressed and annoying brats. But I digress.)

Can't buy me love

2011-12-14T10:46:00.000-08:00

I'm doing home-study courses for my massage CEUs this year. The CEU credits are required every year to renew my massage license. Usually I take hands-on classes, which have given me many useful new techniques over the years. This year, I can't be away from Anton for all of the hours a hands-on class would entail, so home-study it is. If I'd been smart, I would have done this while I was pregnant, because it's hard even to find time to read these days!

Anyway, part of my reading material is this book by the Dalai Lama, Ethics For The New Millennium. Here's a passage I especially enjoyed:

Compassion and love are not mere luxuries. As the source of both inner and external peace, they are fundamental to the continued survival of our species. On the one hand, they constitute non-violence in action. On the other, they are the source of all spiritual qualities: of forgiveness, tolerance, and all the virtues. Moreover, they are the very thing that gives meaning to our activities and makes them constructive. There is nothing amazing about being highly educated; there is nothing amazing about being rich. Only when the individual has a warm heart do these attributes become worthwhile.

I am tired of being told I should admire people simply because they have achieved some level of monetary success. The current economic disaster was caused by unchecked greed. I don't want to be another person who obsesses over money and status. I sometimes get caught up in thinking about things I could do with more money, and while that's not always a bad thing, it can make me feel inadequate and frustrated. It's important to remember what really matters.

Fancy vegan

2011-12-08T07:36:00.000-08:00

I turned 31 yesterday, and celebrated with the most decadent vegan food I've ever eaten, at Feelings Cafe's Vegan Fine Dining Festivals of Light event. It was a happy coincidence that it happened to take place on my birthday, and that my friend Cate found out about it and passed the info along to me.

Being vegan in Louisiana means cooking at home a lot, or having the occasional meal out of ethnic food or diner-type stuff. That's cool with me for the most part, but I must admit I occasionally miss my pescatarian/vegetarian days, when I could eat at Galatoire's if I wanted to (and had the money...which was rare, but did happen a few times).

The chef at Feelings definitely went for fancy with her meal, which included lentil "caviar" and an entree (fried hearts of palm stuffed with cashew cheese) so rich that it was hard to believe it was vegan. But my favorite part of the meal was what she called "Sri Lankan Borscht." It was a pureed, bisque-type thing (sorry, I'm not so up on the foodie lingo), which was interesting for a borscht. It also had some Indian spices in there, and crispy little fried curry leaves. I could eat that stuff every day. I might have to fool around in my kitchen and attempt to recreate something similar.

It was also, of course, wonderful to have a nice dinner with my husband, without Anton watching and shrieking from his bouncy seat until one of us gave in and held him while attempting to eat one-handed. Ahem. Anton was with his grandma, and apparently decided it was finally time to drink pumped milk from a bottle without fussing and protesting. Good timing, kid.

Ever-greening

2011-11-29T10:47:00.000-08:00

It sometimes amuses my husband that the things I do in my quest to be more "green" and economical are things that people did in the Soviet Union because they had no other choice. Like cloth diapers* and using vinegar to clean.

Anyway, I recently realized that a major not-so-green habit of mine was paper towels. I'm somewhat of a paper towel addict. They're just so absorbent! And convenient! And I'm pretty OCD about having clean hands, so I wipe my hands constantly when I eat. I use paper towels for napkins, and sometimes go through several in one meal if I'm eating something messy.

So, I decided I should do something about that.

I got some cloth napkins at thrift stores yesterday. I think I went a bit overboard, when I got home and counted them, there were 31. Also, as you can see, my basket runneth over. But that means I don't have to wash them too often, I guess! I like the variety of colors and patterns.

The cost was around $12. I know I spent $14 total, and most of it was for the napkins, but someone also needed a few pairs of socks.

*They actually had to make their own, apparently. I'm not nearly that crunchy...yet. I'll stick to Fuzzibunz and prefolds ;)

DIY and chipping in

2011-11-10T08:18:00.000-08:00

I've noticed something lately among some artists I know, which I find a bit disappointing. It's a focus on money and compensation that I don't remember seeing so much of in the past. I hear statements like, "I'm not doing anything for free" and see some Kickstarter pages that make me raise an eyebrow.

Now. Put down the pitchfork and hear me out. I do think art is valuable. I don't think being an artist should mean living a life of poverty. But I also think that 1) financial challenges can actually lead to innovation in art, and 2) community and volunteering are central to the arts and I don't want to see them disappear.

I will restrain myself from gushing about my days at NTI (almost a decade ago...yikes!) because that could go on forever and would only end in me saying ridiculous things like "free your pelvis!" while sobbing with nostalgia, and who wants to see that? But one thing I really liked about the program was that we were given very little (basically nothing, really) for the scenes we directed and for our final project. If you needed something, you made it, or you found it by asking "Who's got a newspaper?" "Do any of you guys have a striped tie?" And if someone had it, they let you borrow it for your scene. You did not go around asking your friends for money so you could go prop shopping.

I adore low-budget, passion-driven theater. I'm more intrigued by a site-specific piece using found objects than some high-budget musical any day. Personal preference, yes. But I value experimentation, and lack of funds and experimentation are a match made in heaven.

I think Kickstarter is a great website, and I have donated to several projects that sounded really cool and truly could not have happened without funding. I'm not trying to say no one should ever ask for money. But I see some projects that seem to me to be more about laziness and lack of imagination than a true need. If you can't get off your butt and make art without someone giving you money first, then I think there might be an issue there.

Which brings me to the second point I mentioned above. Maybe it's because I'm getting older, but I seem to be seeing less of the "let's get together and do this thing for the fun of it/because we feel it should be done" attitude that I love about the artistic community. Listen, if some big corporation, or your millionaire friend, asks you to make some art for them, by all means ask them for some money. If your fellow struggling artist friend asks if you want in on her non-paying project but you simply don't have the time because you have to work so hard at your day job, by all means tell her so. [Actually, I'm of the opinion that having a day job can be very beneficial to one's art, but that's a topic for another day] But if your across-the-board attitude is, "I'm not doing anything for free," then I have to wonder why you're an artist. I don't think your fellow struggling artist friends are trying to screw you over by asking if you want in on a project they can't pay you for. If you think they are...find some new friends.

Skill-sharing doesn't always have to be "consulting" for a fee. Your time is well spent when you're being inspired with your friends. Who helped you grow as an artist...only people you paid? I doubt it!

Do what you can do, help when you can help, and see it as an opportunity to learn and grow. If you can't afford to do something, that's cool. Make money when you can and enjoy it - you worked for it! But why look at everything with dollar signs in your eyes? Our scrappiness and generosity have served us well as artists, and we shouldn't be so quick to part with them.

The dust has settled.

2011-11-07T07:56:00.001-08:00

I gave a massage yesterday for the first time in months. I'm going back to work soon (on a very part-time basis) and I was worried that I'd forgotten my basic routine and/or lost my touch. It's incredible what the body remembers - I couldn't think my way through my massage, but most of the time my hands and arms seemed to remember what to do. I set up the front room of our house as a guest room/massage room, and found it to be a great space to work in. Lit a candle, put on some music, and did my thing.

It helped that the client was my mom :)

Anton is a relatively happy baby, and is quite content to be my companion when I go to the grocery store or the Farmer's Market, or out for walks. And when we're home, he loves to play in his baby gym. Observe:

I've started on a new project, a theater thing. It will be a collaboration with one of my closest friends, and we're excited about it. I'm in the script writing phase now. I find that I don't have many hours to devote to it, but when I do find a bit of time, I make the best of it. Last week I sneaked off to Starbucks for a couple of hours by myself, and hand-wrote several pages at a frenzied pace.

I've been thinking about the future, and how to balance work and creativity and mothering. That silly struggle women's magazines have been writing about for decades now. I want to find a way to feel challenged, make some money, and spend plenty of time with Anton throughout his childhood. This new theater project, if it works out, would hopefully be a long-time gig, and help me achieve that goal.

Anton's napping, I'd better get back to that goal-achieving work.

The state of me.

2011-10-20T15:32:00.000-07:00

For the first time in nearly a year, I am starting to feel "myself" physically. My energy level is up, I have a spring in my step when I walk, all that good stuff.

I have friends who are pregnant now who seem to be feeling fine, and maybe I'm just a whiny baby, but really from the beginning of my pregnancy I started feeling like crap, and pretty much felt that way to varying degrees until, oh, now (over 2 months since I gave birth).

I felt big and sluggish and tired throughout my pregnancy. Then I had to heal from a c-section while caring for a newborn. It's good to put all that behind me. I've been taking daily walks with Anton in the baby carrier. I'd enjoy some different scenery than this subdivision, but at least the weather is nice.

It's odd to me that I can both adore my baby to bits and miss him when I'm away from him for, like, an hour (which is pretty much the longest I've been away from him), AND at the same time miss my "old life." But, that's where I'm at.

Last night, I had quite the ordeal, trying out a new recipe for dinner that turned out to be more complicated than I'd anticipated. Anton was tired but only sleeping in 10 minute increments, then screaming for me, then I'd nurse him, then back to sleep (for 10 minutes). It was really frustrating and cooking dinner took forever. After we'd finally eaten, I felt so exhausted by the whole thing...then I felt depressed that the central challenge of my life these days is cooking dinner with an infant. This time last year, I was working on my Fringe Festival show.

I'm going to try venturing out for longer periods of time, so I can do more creative stuff. I plan to start attending writer's group again, while David watches Anton. I have a lot of pumped milk stashed in my freezer and Anton has been okay with a bottle the few times we've tested it out. I'm hoping to start doing some massage soon, as well.

I've been trying to write, but I can basically only do it when Anton naps, which is also when I need to do laundry (cloth diapers = lots of laundry), eat, cook, etc. I got a dictation app for my iPhone, I'm going to try writing via dictation while nursing. We'll see.

I go crazy without creative outlets. I'd love some tips from experienced artist moms on how to make this work!

Latest reads: Room by Emma Donaghue and Ten Thousand Saints by Eleanor Henderson

2011-10-17T05:46:00.000-07:00

So. I've finally mastered reading-while-nursing (much easier on the Kindle than with a "real" book). It has improved my life greatly. I have yet to master typing-while-nursing, though, so I haven't been posting here much. The baby's asleep right now, let's hope he allows me to write about my recent reads before he wakes up.My friend Caitlin recommended Room to me, she thought that, as a new mom, I would enjoy reading this book that centers on a mother-son relationship. I adored this book. The most impressive part of it was the voice of the narrating character - a five year old boy, who has lived in a small room with his mother for his entire life. His mother is the prisoner of a man who rapes her repeatedly, fathering (only in the biological sense) her son, Jack. It was no small achievement for Donaghue to tell this story entirely in the very believable voice of such a young character. The story is told in present tense, as well. I felt like I was there, and my heart was racing at several points in the book, hoping Jack and his mother would be okay. I read this in two days. I kept looking at my baby Anton while he slept, so thankful for him. The book is a wonderful account of a mother's love, while at the same time a bit of a thriller.

Next I read Ten Thousand Saints on my Kindle, which I'd read about in Poets & Writers magazine. The characters are part of the straight-edge hardcore punk scene in the late '80s, and I've never come across a novel about this particular subculture before. I was marginally aware of this scene in high school (although that was in the 90s, I must point out), and went to a couple of shows because I had crushes on boys who were into it. So I was intrigued by the subject matter. I liked this book a lot, and thought the characters were genuine and interesting, and I found myself caring deeply for them. However, I found Henderson's writing style a bit confusing, at times. She loves similies like my cat loves smoked salmon. This book is full of them, like seeds of a pomegranate.

Okay, okay, her similies are mostly far better than mine. But there were just.so.many.of.them. And some of them didn't quite work for me. So then I'd find myself pondering the weird similie, and it would take me out of the story. And overall, the style was very intellectual-poetic, which didn't seem like it fit any of the characters' view of the world. Also, the perspective shifted quite often. Sometimes it seemed to shift mid-paragraph. Sometimes I wasn't sure whose head we were currently in. It was not a huge distraction, but I think it might have been better if she'd just picked one or two, or heck, even three characters through which we could view the story.

The wonderful characters and the unpredictable and intriguing story made me keep reading, though, like a straight-edge teenage boy at a free vegan buffet. Sorry, I couldn't help that one.

Thoughts on nursing

2011-09-16T12:42:00.001-07:00

I called my mom one day a couple of weeks ago, to make a confession: I was not enjoying breastfeeding. It was very important to me to nurse my baby, and I never was tempted to give him formula, but I felt like nursing was a drag, and I felt guilty about that.

My mom expressed surprise at first, but then said she did remember having some issues in the first couple of weeks, if she really thought about it. But she told me that that time period was so short, it only made up a tiny percentage of the time she spent nursing (1 year for each of her 3 kids), so she tended to forget the hard times.

My doula had similar advice. "Breastfeeding is so worth it," she said, "once you make it past the first couple of weeks." And that is what I wish more people would tell new moms. Breastfeeding advocates tend to minimize the challenges of breastfeeding, in my experience. I have a book on breastfeeding which has been helpful, but it says things like "soreness rarely lasts longer than 48 hours," which was not my experience, nor the experience of several people I've talked to. Even my husband, when doing internet research, commented that "all of these websites say that if you're sore you're doing it wrong...but then it also seems like everyone says they got sore." Yep.

Then, of course, there's the "formula is just as good" camp, which I totally disagree with. Formula doesn't even make that claim...look at the package. It says breastfeeding is best. I know that because I've been sent formula in the mail that I never requested or wanted. I think it's great that formula exists for those RARE instances where it is necessary, but I think it's crappy to try to get it into the hands of every new mom. Clearly the formula companies are trying to take advantage of frustrated new moms and get them to try their product. And that sucks (no pun intended).

Because, yes, for many women it is NOT easy or convenient in those first couple of weeks. Anton was in NICU for a day, where he was given a bottle and a pacifier. When confronted with my anatomy, which does not resemble those things, he had no clue what to do. I was given a nipple shield by the lactation consultants in the hospital (who were great - I wish all hospitals had LC's as knowledgeable and helpful as these ladies), and that worked, but it was kind of a pain to deal with, so I spent a few days weaning him off of the shield, with tears shed by both of us! And after that, I got really sore. I began to dread feeding him because it hurt so much. Then after that subsided, I started to get...bored. I don't like sitting still, and I was spending so many hours of the day nursing that I was getting a bit stir-crazy.

I stuck with it, because I knew it was the best thing for my baby, and thankfully I had a lot of people supporting me - Mom, Rene (my doula), my husband, etc. And guess what? I got past all of those hurdles. Now I love it! As Anton grows, both of us seem more aware of when he is hungry, how long he needs to nurse, etc.

As I mentioned in my birth story posts, I had really wanted to give birth naturally. I felt, based on the testimonials of women I know who have given birth naturally, that it would feel empowering for me. And I didn't get that experience. But now that I'm nursing, I get a similar feeling of empowerment - that my body can do this awesome thing for my baby.

Some people argue that it's not feminist to push breastfeeding, because women should be encouraged to make their own choices. And yeah, choice is great. And of course, there are some women who cannot breastfeed. But for those who can, it's important to recognize that these are not two "equally good" options. It has been well established that breast milk is superior to formula. You can find that info in about 30 seconds of research. Do more research, and you'll find more and more reasons why.

And here's my feminist take: this is something completely amazing that women's bodies can do. When you breastfeed, your body creates milk especially for your baby. If you have another baby, the milk will be different! How cool is that? But like many things associated with women, the awesomeness of breastfeeding is downplayed by our patriarchal society. Okay, okay, I know some people are probably rolling their eyes at that statement. Yes, I used the dreaded "P" word. But I stand by it. I have had doctors lecture me about setting time limits on nursing, to make sure my baby doesn't "use" me "as a pacifier." So let me get this straight: it's superior for me to put a piece of plastic (which is designed to mimic one of my body parts) in my baby's mouth? Now, I don't let him nurse forever, because, as I mentioned before, I get stir-crazy. But I don't think there's anything inherently wrong with it. It just strikes me as odd that this was such a big fear of the pediatricians. Pretty much anything seen as "a woman thing" is portrayed as petty and trivial in our culture. I really do think attitudes towards breastfeeding are another example of that (especially when you consider our culture's obsession with breasts as sex objects, and only sex objects).

In short, breast milk is best, women's bodies are awesome for their ability to make it (and for many other reasons), and though it is not easy at first, as my doula said, it is so worth it!

My birth story - Part 2: Postpartum

2011-08-25T15:08:00.000-07:00

It turned out that Anton had taken such a big breath when he came out that he had a tiny tear in his lung, and a pocket of air had formed. This is apparently not terribly uncommon, and they may not have even known it happened except that they took a chest x-ray because he was breathing rapidly after he was born.

He was kept in the NICU to be monitored, to make sure his lung didn’t collapse. They put him under an oxygen hood. David and my mom and my sister were able to visit him. I’d have to wait until I was able to get out of bed.

Mom had brought some food for everyone, and we visited and ate. After a couple of hours, they moved me to the postpartum ward. David went home for a few hours to feed our cats and take a shower and get some rest.

I woke up at one point, and I heard another baby down the hall cry. The endorphin rush of knowing my baby was alive had worn off a bit, and I began to feel sad. It was unlike any feeling I’d had before – like someone had chipped off a chunk of my soul and put it somewhere far away from me. It just felt wrong. I wanted my baby. The next few hours dragged endlessly as I waited for my 12 hour strict bedrest to end.

Finally, the nurse came in to help me get up, clean up a bit, and then go see Anton. David came back, and went to the NICU to wait while I got ready. I didn’t need the wheelchair they offered. I walked to the NICU – although I felt about 80 years old, slightly hunched over and shuffling along. But I was so, so excited!

When I got there, the nurse told me Anton was doing well, and could be removed from the oxygen for a while if I wanted to hold him. Of course I did!

At this point I would like to say that many of the natural birth – centered material that I’d watched and read while pregnant said that c-sections interfere with the natural bonding between mother and baby. I’ve decided this is complete bullshit. I didn’t see my baby for twelve hours, yet when they handed him to me to hold, it was the happiest moment of my life, and I don’t believe I could have possibly loved that kid more even if I’d had my dream natural birth. If anything, my love for him was increased due to the gratitude that he had made it, after I’d spent so many hours in fear.

He was awake and alert, and looked at me with beautiful, intelligent blue eyes. The feeling was indescribable.

The next day, David and I visited him again in the NICU, and I held him again. They were taking chest x-rays every few hours to determine when he could be released from NICU. This finally happened around 2pm, and then he was put in the room with me until we were discharged from the hospital on Friday.

I got a bad headache from the spinal and was on bedrest for the first 48 hours that we were home. Mom and Becca came and stayed with us and helped to cook and take care of the baby.

Now we are both doing great. I am so thankful for my baby every second of every day.

My birth story - Part 1: Not what I expected

2011-08-25T14:46:00.000-07:00

I typed this out shortly after I got home from the hospital, but haven't had a chance to add the pictures and post it until today due to a certain very demanding little someone :)

At about 1:30am on Tuesday, 8/9, I woke up when David came to bed. As I lay there, I felt a contraction that seemed stronger and more painful than the Braxton-Hicks contractions I’d been having for a few weeks. I was somewhat hopeful, but at 41 weeks pregnant a part of me didn’t believe I’d go into labor at all. I had an induction scheduled for Friday morning, which I wasn’t happy about. It had long been my desire to have a completely natural water birth.

After about half an hour and a few more contractions, I wondered if this was the real deal. I began to look at the clock when I had a contraction. They were between 5 and 10 minutes apart. At about 2:30am I got up and bounced on my yoga ball in the living room. At 3:30 I woke up David to give him the heads up that I thought this was it, but that he could sleep a bit more and I would let him know when things really got going. I got my ipod and lay on the couch, listening to some hypnosis for labor tracks that I’d downloaded a few months before. They were helpful, suggesting breathing patterns for the contractions that gave me something to focus on other than the pain. Eventually David got up and began to watch me and time the contractions. They were getting closer together, but slowly. I texted my mom and my doula. I wanted them to be prepared, but I felt that it would be a while before I was ready to head to the hospital. At one point David called the hospital and they told me I could wait and come in when the contractions were 2-3 minutes apart. That didn’t happen till around 9am. Still, I was hesitant to go into the hospital. I liked laboring at home.

But after 8 hours or so of labor, I told David I might want to go in to the hospital so they could make sure the baby was still doing okay. We talked to Rene and she suggested that I go in, so that I would have a chance to get settled into my hospital room before things got really intense. She also said that if I hadn’t progressed much, they might send me home.

When we got to the hospital, the contractions slowed a bit. They hooked me up to monitor me and the baby. The nurses suddenly would make me change positions (roll to the other side) during contractions. I wasn’t sure why they were doing this at first. David thought it was for my pain, and asked them if I could walk around or have a birthing ball. They explained that the baby’s monitor was showing “variables” and they were concerned for him. This situation did not improve as they monitored us. They very gently told me that they were worried that the baby was having problems – most likely a cord issue – which was causing his heart rate to drop dramatically during my contractions. And I was only 1cm dilated. A midwife came in, and explained that they would try their best to let me have a vaginal delivery, but they were so concerned for the baby that several things would have to be done to allow me to continue to labor: they would put me on an IV, I had to wear an oxygen mask and a pulse monitor, and they were going to break my water and attach a scalp monitor to the baby’s head.

I was not going to be able to get out of bed until I’d had the baby. There would be no water birth. At the moment, I didn’t care about any of this – I was just worried about the baby. They assured me that it was okay for me to continue to labor naturally as long as we took these steps.

When they broke my water, I didn’t feel the gush of fluid I was expecting. There was no fluid. So they did an amnio-infusion, pumping me full of saline. During this time, the OB came in to introduce herself (I’d only seen midwives throughout my pregnancy), and so did the nurse anesthetist. Once my water had broken, the labor got more intense over the next couple of hours. All of the methods I’d planned to use to deal with the pain were basically no longer an option, since I was confined to the bed. It was difficult. But what made it especially hard was that I was fighting off panic the entire time. I was so, so worried about my baby. I could hear his heartbeat slow on the monitor every time I had a contraction. It was completely nerve-wracking. At times, nurses or the OB or the midwife would come in and stare at the monitor with grave faces. The OB told us that soon we would have to consider “other options” to make the labor progress more quickly, because they just weren’t comfortable letting it go on for too long. Although the contractions felt really intense and close together, I still wasn’t dilating particularly quickly – I don’t think I ever made it past 3cm. I didn’t know how much I could take. I began to shake and even vomited from the pain. My usually squeamish husband held the barf bag for me and didn’t flinch. He and Rene held my hands and talked me through the contractions.

After months of research and discussion about natural birth, David felt skeptical about all of the interventions. He was a bit of a PITA to the hospital staff. But it felt nice that he was trying to stand up for me and my wishes.

As time went on, I reached a point where I wasn’t sure if I could take the mental anguish any more. I told Rene and David that I was beginning to feel selfish. I’d wanted a natural birth because I believe it is (usually) best for mother and baby. But my baby was not doing well – was it right to put him through this? I was feeling like I just wanted him OUT by any means necessary, so he could be okay. It was sad to me that my body was no longer a safe place for him, but that’s how it seemed.

Some nurses came in to check me and I expressed these thoughts to them. They were very gentle and careful with their wording and did not try to pressure me into anything. They did tell me that if I were to make that decision now, it might be a good thing because they would have time to do spinal anesthesia, whereas if I had to be rushed in for an emergency section they would have to put me under general anesthesia, and I would not be able to see the baby when he came out.

This turned out to be a moot point, because just then I had another contraction, and the baby’s heartbeat did not recover when it was over. I heard the nurses say “he’s not coming up,” and then I could hear nothing from his monitor. They began to unhook everything and rush me back to the OR. They were talking to each other and asking me questions about allergies to medications and stuff like that as they wheeled me down the hall. I was in a complete panic because I had heard the baby’s monitor go silent. Later, David explained to me that this was because they’d unhooked it to take me to the OR, but at the time I thought it meant his heart had completely stopped. I was shaking uncontrollably.

The nurse anesthetist was saying there was no time for a spinal and I’d be given general anesthesia. They gave me a few consent forms to sign. But when we got to the OR, the anesthesiologist there said he thought he had time to do a spinal, and asked me if that was what I wanted. I was so panicked by this time that I said “I don’t know!” He said, “Do you want to meet your baby?” I said yes. He began to do the spinal.

One of the nurses was trying to calm me down so I would stop shaking. It was rather scary to be shaking while someone put a needle into my spinal cord. I asked her, “Is my baby alive right now?” And she said “Oh yes! Look, that’s his heartbeat!” And showed me a monitor that said 134. They’d had no idea I thought the baby’s heart had stopped.

The OB came in and they began to prep me for the section. It was all moving very fast. They poked me a bit with the scalpel and the anesthesiologist asked me if I could feel it, if it felt sharp. I could, and it did. He said if the spinal didn’t kick in soon they’d have to put me under general, because they couldn’t wait any more. Thankfully, seconds later it began to work. They asked me if I could feel the scalpel, and I could, but just barely, and it didn’t hurt.

“Look who’s here,” the anesthesiologist said. There was David, in surgical scrubs, holding my hand.

And then someone was telling me the baby was out. I began to hear him cry. “Do you hear that?” David said. “That’s our son. Our son is here.” Anton was born at 2:51pm.

I just kept asking, “Is he okay?” Rene talked me through what was happening – they were suctioning out his nose and mouth. There had been meconium present and they thought he might have inhaled some. He was not taking oxygen quickly enough.

I couldn’t see the baby, he was surrounded by people. They told me he was going to the NICU. They asked if David wanted to go back there with him. I saw David look at me. He didn’t want to leave me, but I really wanted him to be with the baby. Rene offered to stay with me.

They brought me the baby, all bundled up, and told me to give him a kiss. His face was so tiny and pale. I kissed him. Then they took him away. I didn’t see him for the next twelve hours.

Rene held my hand while they stitched me up. I was told that the baby seemed mostly fine, but they wanted to give him some extra oxygen and keep an eye on him for a while. I was relieved.

My mom and my sister had arrived at the hospital just as my section was started. They were in my room when I got back there. They took turns visiting the baby in the NICU. One of the nurses taped a picture of him to my bed.

It was hard to be without him, but what I felt most at that point was overwhelming relief that he was alive.

This does not bode well.

2011-08-01T07:57:00.001-07:00

So, happy due date to me! Not much seems to be happening in uterus-land, unfortunately.

Last night, it was around 11pm and I was bored and not tired (this is rare, I usually go to bed around 10 these days). David pointed out that neither of us had left the house all day, and suggested we go for a short drive. Maybe after that, I'd be tired.

So I agreed. Now here's the good and bad thing about our relationship: I'm kind of a weird, impulsive person. David, if anything, is even weirder and more impulsive (in some ways, anyway). So sometimes the voice of reason and normality is lacking in our relationship.

Which is to say, I grabbed David's cat, Snookums, and said, "Let's bring Snookums!" I was mostly joking. But David said "Yes, let's bring her!"

Now, Snookums, unlike my ill-tempered cat (Masha), is extremely tolerant. She is willing to be carted around by humans indefinitely. Also unlike Masha, she's quiet. If she doesn't like something, it's kind of hard to tell.

So we set off, with Snookums the cat, for a drive.

At first, she sat on David's lap, then I said, "Give her to me!" thinking she might enjoy looking out the window. David handed her over, and she looked out the window...and then my lap began to feel extremely warm and wet.

And, sadly, it was not my water breaking.

So, back home we went, where I threw my clothes in the laundry and myself in the shower, and David cleaned the upholstery in his car.

I felt guilty because I think poor Snookums was scared, and that's why she peed. I didn't mean to torture the kitty in our quest for a mini-adventure. I never would have brought Masha in the car, because she howls on car rides, leading me to believe that she does not enjoy them. Well, I guess now I know that Snookums feels the same way.

I said to David, "Okay, next time we're bored, that's what we won't do."

It's kind of scary that we're about to be responsible for a helpless young human.

Books: Silver Sparrow by Tayari Jones and We Need To Talk About Kevin by Lionel Shriver

2011-07-26T06:21:00.000-07:00

I read these books last week, but also cut my left hand while chopping veggies, making typing difficult. That's why I haven't been so posty lately (no, it wasn't because I had the baby...but my due date is one week from yesterday, so he should arrive soon).

Silver Sparrow by Tayari Jones
I read an interview with Jones in Poets & Writers, and thought this book sounded good. Then I heard another interview with her on NPR, and that sealed the deal. I had to read this! It's a story about bigamist in Atlanta who has two daughters (one with each of his wives) that are the same age. The "second" family knows about the "first" family, but the "first" family does not know about the "second" family. The book is divided into two parts, one from each daughter's perspective. It takes place mostly in the 80s, when the girls are teens. Jones' writing style has an unadorned, very readable feel to it, with a sneaky depth that kept me thinking about the book even in the rare moments that I wasn't actively reading it. One thing that especially struck me was the compassion she showed to each of her characters - they were full and rich and when they were in conflict with each other it was hard for me to choose a side! My only complaint was that I wanted more...I wasn't ready to say goodbye to the characters when the book ended. I highly recommend this book.

ETA: I forgot to mention, my alma mater, Mount Holyoke College, gets a shout-out in this book :)

We Need To Talk About Kevin by Lionel Shriver
I don't remember how I heard about this one...I think maybe Amazon recommended it? It's been out for a few years, but the Kindle edition just came out a couple of months ago. This was one I knew I probably should stay away from in my sensitive pregnant state...yet I couldn't resist. It's written from the perspective of a mother whose teenage son has killed several of his classmates, around the same time as the Columbine shootings (this book is fiction, it's not about a real school shooting). The mother, through a series of letters to her estranged husband, reflects on her relationship with her son, which was essentially a hostile power struggle from the day he was born. Her son was a mean, nasty kid. But why? This is what his mother attempts to figure out.

Shriver's style is wordy and somewhat rambling, which seemed to me like a choice based on the character (and it worked...though it was a bit hard for me to get into immediately, especially in contrast with Jones' book, which I'd just finished), although I haven't read any of her other books so I can't say for sure.

This book is very, very disturbing. I sat on the couch with my Kindle, occasionally asking my husband questions such as "Has there ever been anyone in your family that you'd describe as a psychopath?" and "Do you believe in bad seeds?"

So, yeah. Maybe not the best choice of reading material right now. But it was excellently done, with touching and even funny moments interspersed with the general tone of doom. I recommend this one if you think you can handle it!

Birthing bead necklace

2011-07-14T16:04:00.000-07:00

This is a necklace I made to wear during labor. I'm participating in an online Due Date Club comprised of women whose babies are due in August. Twenty-two of us opted to do a bead exchange. We each sent twenty-two beads out, and each person got one of each bead. Some people sent extras, so I ended up with more than one of some of them. The ones I sent out are the light blue discs with brown swirls...and I kept two for my own necklace :)

The lion was a special splurge purchase that I couldn't pass up at the bead store. My baby will most likely be a Leo. Also, it is from Russia!

Oh, and yeah, I know I'm a hippie.

Book review: Flower Children by Maxine Swann

2011-07-12T09:37:00.000-07:00

Yeah, I've been reading a lot lately. I picked this book up at Blue Cypress Books in NOLA the last time I was there, when I had some time to kill. Since I finished Townie yesterday, I tossed this book in my tote bag when I went out to run errands. It was a quick read - I finished it in the wee hours this morning after one of the cats woke me up and I couldn't get back to sleep.

Flower Children is about four siblings being raised by hippie parents in the 1970s. It has more of a short story (or short story collection) feel than a novel feel. There isn't exactly a central plot, and the perspective shifts fairly often. It worked for me, though, because the descriptions of the children's lives were so rich and honest, and because I wanted to see what the crazy adults would do next. It reminded me at times of Augusten Burroughs' Running With Scissors - but without the bitter humor. Which is not to say there weren't funny parts in Flower Children, but overall it had a more subtle and poetic tone.

I recommend this one for anyone fascinated by hippie culture, or anyone looking for a beautifully written book with a unique style.

Intentions aren't everything.

2011-07-12T07:44:00.000-07:00

There's an article on essence.com, which I read via Feministe, concerning the reporter Mac McClelland's use of a story of another woman's traumatic rape in a personal essay she wrote about how her job affects her sex life. Go read the Essence article, and the comments too, where McClelland, Mother Jones (who McClelland works for), and the rape victim's lawyer respond.

I'm sure McClelland had good intentions - both in bringing the story of the situation in Haiti to people's attention in her Mother Jones reporting and in addressing the complex affects of violence on sexuality in her personal essay (which I won't link to here but it's easy to find...as a warning, though, I personally found it very difficult to read and upsetting). But her focus on her intentions and her own trauma seem to have blinded her to the rape victim's feelings and wishes, which is not OK.

I was reminded of a situation a few years ago, when Eve Ensler's V-day organization had a huge event in New Orleans. My playback troupe was performing at this event and leading story circles, which is a process in which people share stories from their lives (it is something we often use in conjunction with our Playback work, since Playback is a theatrical representation of personal stories). We were working in a beautiful red tent designed by an artist from New York, which created a nice sense of intimacy and was a women-only space...however, it proved to be too small to hold the many women who wanted to participate in our workshops.

Anyway, I found myself in the unfortunate position of bouncer for much of the event, which really sucked because I hated turning away women who wanted to participate. And sometimes people got really confrontational with me, which I felt was unfair because I had no real power to change the situation or go build a bigger tent or anything like that.

Many of the stories that the women were sharing had to do with sexual assault and violence, and we did our best to keep the space safe for these women. Part of the story circle process is an agreement not to share stories you hear in the circle with the outside world.

Well, at one point a woman with a video camera showed up, and informed me that she was going to film one of our workshops. At that time, the leader of our Playback group was not present and I had not been informed that this was going to happen. I told her this, and she assured me that it was fine, because Eve Ensler had asked her to document everything going on at the V-day event. I told her I still was not comfortable with her taping the story circle workshop due to the need for privacy and a safe environment. She kept repeating, "but it's for Eve!" and telling me what a swell person Eve Ensler is (which I'm sure she is, but that wasn't the point). I eventually got so frustrated and angry because I felt I was being patronized and dismissed that I started to cry. Gah! I hate that I cry when I'm angry. Especially because her reaction was to become even more patronizing and to hug me, repeatedly, against my will.

Eventually, thankfully, the leader of our group returned and spoke with this woman, and they decided to have one story circle comprised of people who had given prior consent to being filmed, with the understanding that no one else was to be filmed.

The McClelland mess reminded me of that experience because I think both are examples of what can happen when two very important issues - the need to share with the world at large the horrible violence that too many women endure and the need to protect those women and honor their feelings and their ownership of their experiences - clash. My opinion is that we need to be vigilant to protect the individual women's needs first, or we risk victimizing them all over again.

Book review: Townie by Andre Dubus III

2011-07-11T11:24:00.000-07:00

I heard an interview with Andre Dubus III a few months ago on NPR when David and I were driving through Florida. I found myself telling David more than once, "I have to read that book!" I like memoirs (especially if they're written by actual, talented writers as opposed to, say, people who are famous for something other than writing), I like books that take place in Massachusetts (where I grew up), and I'm especially drawn to stories involving divorce and family issues.

If, by chance, any of you go for these elements in a book, Townie is definitely for you. But even if you don't, there are plenty of other reasons to read this book.

Townie is a book about masculinity. If I'd known that, I may have passed on it. I'm glad I didn't figure that out until I was already hooked. David recently told me he rarely reads books written by women, that he often finds the themes and writing styles less interesting and easy to relate to than those written by men. I told this to my sister, and she said she rarely reads books written by men for the same reason. I read both, but I do tend to be drawn more to books with female protagonists. Which, more often than not, are also written by women, so I suppose I probably end up reading more female authors as well. I feel particularly turned off by most books about war (well, blow-by-blow battle accounts, anyway...I have enjoyed reading about the effects of war and violence on individuals and society), or books about men finding themselves through lots of random or extra-marital sex, and other stereotypical "manly" themes.

Townie is different, because Dubus - at least by the time he wrote the book - had a very deep understanding of himself and his motivations, so although there is a lot of violence in the book, it is treated with a level of introspection and honesty that I've never seen before. I felt that I could understand and relate to this guy who gets in bar fights all the time, which is pretty damned far outside my experience. But hey, isn't that why we read, anyway?

The book is mostly chronological, but the beginning part is less so, with more jumps back and forth in time. I found this a bit jarring and I'm not sure why Dubus made this choice. Once the book settled into a strictly chronological format, I enjoyed the flow of the story.

I admit, another thing that I love about memoirs is that I can look the "characters" up on Wikipedia after I've finished reading about them. It's satisfying, like reality TV...only you can feel better about yourself, because it's literary, not trashy ;)

Yesterday I got married in a red polka dot maternity dress.

2011-07-10T11:00:00.000-07:00

David and I originally planned to get married at some point after we had the baby, but due to confusing (and probably boring to read) health insurance issues we recently decided it would be best to get married before the birth. And when I say recently, I mean, like, a few days ago.

I never had a desire to attempt to plan a wedding while pregnant, and I've found that since I have a child on the way, I'd much rather devote our money and effort to him than to a big wedding - now or in the future. Which is not to say I dislike big weddings - I think they're great! I've had tons of fun at other people's weddings. My younger sister is getting married in a few months and I'm super excited about it. It just didn't feel right for me in our particular situation.

I'm 36 weeks pregnant (37 tomorrow), so when we decided we'd like to get married before the baby arrived, we had to act fast! Here's how it went down.

Wednesday
We went to the Clerk of Court and got a marriage license. They had us fill out an online application on a computer. David was being silly and typing jokes in there (stating this was my 27th marriage, etc), and he took most of that out before submitting, but not the part where he put my race as "blue eyes" and his as "brown eyes." I freaked, thinking they'd make us start from scratch, but they just changed it to "white" on the official document and didn't say anything about it. Interestingly, they also listed both of his parents as being born in Russia even though they were born in countries that were part of the USSR but are not part of Russia (and he had indicated this on the form). Whatever, we got our piece of paper, and a stack of business cards for local Justices of the Peace. Then we went out for burritos. David went to work, and I came home and started calling around to see if anyone could marry us this weekend (David's work schedule is starting to pick up so we couldn't do it on a week day). I only got through to one JOP. I arranged a meeting with him the following day.

Thursday
I met the JOP at his home, which has a small chapel attached to it. It was cute, and he was friendly but quite elderly, and we did have to go over some information a few times. I asked about the vows he uses, specifically as they relate to religion (because we didn't want any religious stuff in our vows - David identifies as Jewish Agnostic and I have sort of vague spiritual beliefs which have never exactly aligned with a particular religion). The JOP told me he is Episcopalian and that his vows are general enough to apply to "all denominations." Yeah...one thing I've found in the South is that people tend to assume everyone is some sort of Christian! So I gently requested no religion at all in the ceremony, and he said that would be fine. We scheduled the ceremony for Saturday at 3pm (incidentally, we could not have been married any earlier than noon on Saturday because of Louisiana's 72 hour waiting period).

A FedEx package from David's mom arrived, with a wedding band she'd had made for him when he was a kid. I knew she was going to send it, but I didn't know she would send rings for me, too! She sent a wedding band and a lovely ring with a pink stone in it (tourmaline, I think). It was an awesome surprise...I'd told David I only wanted a simple band but this was much better!

We needed witnesses! I called my mom and my sister. They were both surprised and very happy to serve as our witnesses.

Friday
I got a pedicure and decided to bake myself a vegan wedding cake.

Saturday
We had our last childbirth class in the morning. I'm glad we had an activity planned, because otherwise I would have probably gotten stressed and nervous. The goal was to keep things as low-stress and casual as possible! David was being extra goofy all morning, and I was sort of crabby due to too much rushing in the morning and our late arrival at class (I hate being late for things). However, I mellowed out because I found our class fun and interesting and because David manages to amuse me even when I'm crabby.

We had some time to kill between class and the ceremony, so we went to a jewelry store to see about resizing the rings his mom had sent. His needed to be a bit bigger, so they took it and we'll get it back in a few days. Mine needed to be smaller, but since I'm pregnant they advised against resizing it now, because my hands are probably a bit swollen these days. So instead they put a metal thing in it so that it won't fall off my finger in the meantime.

We arrived at the JOP's house/chapel at the same time as my mom, who'd brought flowers! I pretty mixed bouquet for me to carry and a boutonniere for David. Soon after, my sister Becca arrived with her boyfriend Paul and Paul's teen son, Dakota. David and I went to separate rooms to change clothes, and I suggested that he might want to ask to see the vows...which was good, because apparently the JOP had forgotten my request at our meeting, and they were chock full o' Jesus. I have no problem with Jesus, we just didn't want him in our vows. So they got that straightened out. We signed the paperwork, and were ready to roll!

I was pleasantly surprised to see David looking very handsome in dress pants, white shirt and a tie. He had told me he was not going to dress fancy. He likes to mess with me. I wore my red polka dot maternity dress because, hey, it's not like I was going to wear white at 9 months pregnant! I had a perfect red heart necklace from Becca to wear with it. I actually bothered to put on makeup for the first time in months, too.

I'm not too big on social traditions (which you've probably gathered if you've read this far), and I understand why a lot of people don't think it's necessary to have the government sanction their relationship. I know plenty of people who are very committed to each other without being legally married (some of them are gay and can't get married, which pisses me off...but that's another rant). But I have to say, standing there and looking into David's eyes as we said our vows was a powerful experience for me - more than I expected it to be. I couldn't stop grinning!

When we got to the ring exchanging part, I had no ring for David because we'd just dropped it off at the jeweler's, which gave everyone a good laugh. The JOP had little fake wedding bands for this purpose, so that's what I used. The ceremony was sweet, quick, and fun. Then we took some pictures, thanked the JOP, and went out for Japanese food.

After that, we came back to our house, where we ate the little vegan wedding cake (which Dakota declared to be "even better than regular cake" - I like that kid!).

And then we were exhausted!

Sunday (today)
I woke up and saw my ring and David beside me sleeping, and the baby was wiggling around in my belly and...I don't know how to describe it. I feel this unexpected freedom, to truly love someone without worry, without holding myself back. So much of this past year has surprised me. Plans that I attempted fell through, things I never expected happened, but somehow I ended up with this smart, caring, weird and wonderful husband and soon we'll have a son. It's not a traditional story, but it's our story, and I'm living it and loving it.

Sedentary entertainment

2011-07-03T07:26:00.000-07:00

I'm tired of being tired! This last month or so of pregnancy is going to drag. People ask me if I'm ready for the baby yet...I don't really know, but I do know I am ready to not be pregnant anymore! I'll deal with the whole being a mom thing and whatever that entails, I am just ready to be done with this phase!

I have the most energy when I first wake up in the morning (at around 6am - that's been consistent throughout this pregnancy). Thankfully, that is also the only time it's not insanely hot outside, or dark. So I've been going for short walks when I wake up. After the walk, I can't seem to move around much for the rest of the day, which is really depressing for a formerly active person like me.

Yesterday we went to the mall, which was great at first because I had cabin fever, but by the time we got home I felt like I'd been hit by a truck. I did get a bikini top to wear in the birthing pool, because I've gotten far too busty for any that I already owned. I'm sure you're all quite excited for me.

Anyway, I finished reading The Blind Assassin, which was the Atlantic Monthly's online book club pick for June. Anyone else who's read it, I'd love to hear your thoughts!

I didn't end up participating much in the Twitter discussions (I'm still kind of learning to use Twitter...it's interesting but not really my online comfort zone yet), but I adored the book! It's really three stories in one - a story within a story within a story, and there is an element of mystery that kept me hooked. It is so wonderful when writers allow readers to figure things out over time, without spelling out all the details.

That's something I've noticed in giving and receiving critiques (and I'm guilty of it too): the tendency to point out any momentary confusion as something the writer needs to fix. It's not as if every single character who is named needs to be immediately supplied with a physical description and an explanation of their significance to the story. It's OK to be a bit confused when you're reading...not so confused that you give up and put the book down, but confused enough that you read on to figure things out!

I think I'll skip the Atlantic's book for July because I'm not super-interested in it and I have a big to-be-read pile going right now. Next up will be Andre Dubus III's memoir, Townie. Now to peel myself off the couch and see where David has stashed the Kindle...

Stockpiling provisions, guarding and snarling.

2011-06-26T11:32:00.000-07:00

So, with the baby due to arrive in the next 3-6 weeks, I can happily say we basically have everything we need for him. Right now I'm washing all of his blankets, towels, and clothes so they'll be ready to go whenever he is.

I'm not too nervous about taking care of him at this point, but I am sort of irrationally nervous about my own food supply. As I've mentioned before, I find the concept of not leaving the house for several days/weeks to be a scary one. The idea of not being able to go to the grocery store is especially frightening. Yes, I realize I have a perfectly capable partner who is more than willing to go (he even went to the Winn-Dixie today to see if they had tahini - which of course they did not - to see if he could save me a trip to Whole Foods), but a weird voice in my head says "What if he messes it up and I staaaaaaaaaarve?!?"

I'm used to cooking about 95% of the food I eat. Being vegan in the middle of Louisiana, I don't really have much of an option. But I know I won't be able to keep up my shopping and cooking habits immediately after having the baby. And one can only survive so long on Lebanese takeout (much as I love it). So I've started to freeze leftovers in individual portions. Today I plan on making a vat of lentil stew, and I'll freeze whatever we don't eat tonight. Tomorrow I might make red beans and rice.

My struggle to guard my food from the cats has intensified. Though I enjoy cooking, it is definitely a bit of an effort these days. I feed the cats CAT FOOD twice a day...as soon as they see me open my eyes I'm greeted with incessant, desperate meows. When it comes near the time for their evening feeding, they strategically place themselves near me and give me the intense, unblinking cat stare. I will love them, feed them, and allow them backyard access, but I do not want them anywhere near MY food. The fruits of my labor in the kitchen are for the benefit of David, the baby, and ME.

David thinks the cats deserve more variety in their diet, and that it's cute when they beg at the table. I respond to such behavior by scooping up said cat(s), tossing them to the back yard, and finishing my meal while they look at me through the back door with their wide, pathetic, cat-refugee faces. I'm not falling for it. Stay away from my food. Grr.

Love and food

2011-06-22T07:33:00.001-07:00

Here's an interesting article about meat-eaters and vegans in relationships.

I found it via Feministe but I've vowed not to comment on any more posts there that reference veganism for the sake of my own sanity...at least until I'm no longer under the influence of pregnancy hormones.

Anyway, I consider myself very lucky that David loves my vegan cooking. Some meat-eaters really seem to want meat with every meal, and I'm so glad he's not in that camp! Also, there are a few places where we can go out to eat and both find something yummy. The Mellow Mushroom makes great vegan and non-vegan stuff, and Thai, Japanese and Indian restaurants are usually accommodating.

It might have been harder if we met before I went vegan, because then he may have grown used to non-vegan home cooking. Now, he either has the choice of vegan home cooking, or no home cooking at all (unless he wants to do that cooking, which is rare). Ha! Vegan home cooking wins.

For breakfast today, I made us some cornbread from the 1000 Vegan Recipes cookbook. It's my favorite vegan cornbread recipe so far. I ate it with Earth Balance and some molasses (a good source of iron and calcium for me and the mini-vegan). Yum!

ETA: The real threat to our relationship is David feeding my cooking to the cats. He informed me that they also liked the cornbread...which became painfully obvious about 30 minutes later when one of them (HIS bad bad cat) apparently snuck up on the table to help herself to more. GRRR.

Transportation, freedom, and staying at home

2011-06-21T09:03:00.000-07:00

Yesterday I spent several hours looking forward to and preparing for a writer's group meeting, then was stuck at home when my car wouldn't start. After a few fruitless attempts to start the car, and then some fruitless attempts to reach David (to see if he might, by chance, already be on his way home and able to drive me there), I came back inside our house, returned to the couch I'd spent most of the day on, and felt immensely depressed.

This whole pregnancy has been a struggle for me, because I'm not physically able to keep the kind of busy work/art/social life schedule I'm accustomed to. That, and now I'm no longer in NOLA. When my car wouldn't start in NOLA (not an entirely rare occurrence), I could call a cab. Here, I knew I was too far out in the 'burbs for a cab to arrive in time. Most of my friends live in NOLA, so I already find myself feeling isolated here. Sad as it may sound, the writer's group was my only planned social activity for the week.

I've found that it is very beneficial to my mental health to get out of the house at least once every day, even if it's only to go to the grocery store. Even though, at 8 months pregnant, my energy level is low, I can't stand sitting around the house all day. I began to picture life without a working vehicle, and I started to panic.

I lived in NOLA for years without a car, but I had lots of interesting places to get to by walking, biking, or public transportation. Here, the roads are narrow, with no sidewalks and ditches beside them. Not that there's anything within walking distance, anyway.

When David came home from work, he was wonderfully comforting and sympathetic, which helped. Then, he eventually managed to get my car to start. It seems to be having some sort of fuel line issue, which was probably not helped when it sat in the heat for a couple of days without being driven. This actually happened last summer, too, and I put some injector cleaner in the gas tank and it seemed to solve the problem. So I'm very glad the car is not dead for good quite yet.

But I have to say, I am worried about the postpartum period. From what I hear, women and their newborns rarely leave the house for a few weeks. I'm really looking forward to interacting with the baby, but I still think being cooped up in the house might depress me. Maybe I'll be so exhausted that I won't even notice, I don't know. But I really don't think I'm cut out for this housewife business.

What I fantasize about.

2011-06-15T06:55:00.000-07:00

1. A big glass of wine.

I know some people do have the occasional glass of wine during pregnancy, but I worry too much, so I've only had random stolen sips of other people's wine since November. I love wine so much and I really, really miss it! I hear it's OK to have a little wine while nursing. So I do look forward to drinking wine again in a few weeks.

2. Intense cardio.

Lately, whenever I see fit women out running, I am overcome with envy. And here's the thing: I never enjoyed running. Also, this is Louisiana and it's insanely hot out. I'm sure I wouldn't be out running even if I wasn't pregnant. But it bothers me that I physically can't run these days without discomfort. My cell phone doesn't work in my house, so the closest thing to running I do these days is a mad dash to locate the ringing phone and get out to the patio in time to answer it before the call drops (thanks, AT&T). And even that leaves me out of breath and sometimes gives me a side stitch.

I also miss Spinning, and thinking about it makes me sad, because I really miss my awesome Spin instructor whose class I'll probably never take again (due to my relocation from NOLA), and my friend that used to go with me every week. I've still got the friend, but our years-long Spinning & Brunch ritual is over.

I want the struggle, the endorphin rush, the feeling of accomplishment that intense cardio gave me. Yoga is great for other reasons, but it's not the same.

3. Tomatoes.They give me heartburn now. I can only eat very small amounts of them. Which sucks, because I make an amazing marinara sauce that I could pretty much eat daily. Yet, the last time I ate it, I woke up in the middle of the night feeling like weasels were trying to fight their way out of my stomach via my throat. I guess it's not so bad that my garden was such a failure this year!

The BEST chickpea salad!

2011-06-07T18:02:00.000-07:00

So I started on my journey with chickpea salad sandwiches here, and I've made it several times, but tonight I made the BEST batch I've ever made. Here's my recipe:

1/2 cup dry chickpeas
1 small handful fresh parsley
1 small handful grated carrots (can you tell I don't like to measure?)
1 green onion, chopped
2-3 tbsp. (approx., depending on how wet you want it to be) Vegenaise or other vegan mayo
Kelp granules to taste
Salt and pepper to taste

Soak the chickpeas (covered, in the fridge) at least 6 hours. Change out the water, bring them to a boil, and then simmer for 30-45 minutes, until they are soft but not mushy. Drain, and rinse well with cold water.

Put the chickpeas and parsley in the food processor, and PULSE until the chickpeas are broken into chunks. You need to use the pulse setting or else you will quickly end up with hummus, which is awesome, but not what we're going for here.

Transfer chickpeas and parsley to a bowl, add all other ingredients, stir it up, and make a sandwich!

I really think the fresh parsley and green onion make this the best. Also, the kelp granules, weird as they are, are a MUST!

Serves 2, if you like to eat a lot, like David and I :)

A glimpse into my life.

2011-06-04T19:21:00.000-07:00

Backstory: David loves having the windows down while driving in the car, but it drives me crazy when my hair blows into my face. Our scene begins with me making frustrated noises and trying to pull my hair back while it blows around wildly.

David: You know, at work we have hair nets. Would that help you?
Me: (laughing) I'd look like a lunch lady!
David: A what? A munch lady?
Me: (laughing too hard to respond clearly) Lunch lady!
David: What is a munch lady? Like, a munchkin? Like welcome to munchkin land?
Me: LUNCH! The ladies who serve you lunch!
David: Like in a high school?
Me: Yes, they wear hair nets so their hair doesn't get in the food.

(a moment later)

Me: I don't want a hair net, I should just wear a head scarf.
David: Oh, like what's-her-name?
Me: Uh...
David: You know, that lady?
Me: NO I DON'T KNOW! Half of the world's population is female! How would I know who you're talking about?
David: The Kennedy lady!
Me: Oh, Jackie Onassis?
David: Yes!

This type of communication happens daily.

I am proud to note

2011-06-04T08:02:00.000-07:00

...that after yesterday morning's dose of angst, I sat down with a few drafts of a short story I attempted to write in 2009, and rewrote it. It took me about twelve hours. It will need revising, but it felt like a good day's work.

David was encouraging me to write short stories on Thursday night. He pointed out that I have a tendency to "start big." For example, my first foray into theater directing was a classic but rarely-tackled LONG Russian play with a cast of seventeen. I was not entirely happy with the results (though it was a major learning experience). My next directing project was a shorter piece of my own, with a much smaller scope. It was more successful.

I do believe in following where the Muse leads. I directed that first play because it was a longtime dream of mine. I wrote my novel because the idea wouldn't let me go. And although I had written a novella in high school, I'd only been writing play scripts since college. So, logically, a short story (or several) would have been a good step. But I didn't have any ideas for short stories.

I took a writing course in 2009, where I was required to write a short story. I developed some interesting characters and a somewhat creative plot. And then I came up with two different bad endings for it, and gave up. I related the plot to David during our conversation, and he said, "that is a damn good plot." I should note that David does not like all of my ideas. And is quite blunt, as a general rule. So this was significant.

David also thought I needed to leave my novel alone for a while, because I was obsessing, and after all I'd just finished the 16 billionth round of revisions on it. He thought I needed to work on other things.

So, back to the short story I went. Yesterday was one of those great writing days where twelve hours felt like twenty minutes. Other than a disappointing excursion to the Winn Dixie (which apparently does not sell tofu), I wrote all day. David called to tell me there was a barbecue at work, and he thought he'd stay there for dinner. It was for the best, because I hadn't cooked anything yet anyway, and besides, I wanted to make tofu.

So he had grilled steak with his co-workers and I heated up a can of baked beans and got back to my writing. And I finished the new draft of the story, and all was well.

What I know and what I feel.

2011-06-03T07:26:00.000-07:00

I was thinking a lot yesterday about my artistic goals. I'm looking forward to applying to grad programs, but it's hard to decide what exactly to study when my interests are so varied. The interests in question are centered around writing and theater, so it's not exactly all over the map, but still.

I was asking myself: what is the area in which I have the most to offer? What do I want to learn about most? What have I most enjoyed doing in the past? There is no one answer to these questions.

I know that the best thing I can do right now is to take advantage of the (ever-fleeting) time I have while I finish incubating this baby. I know that obsessing over things I wish I'd done differently in past projects is a waste of time. I know that the more I continue to create, the better I will get.

Still, it is frustrating sometimes. Even though I know all these things, how I feel is that I want to already be brilliant and recognized for it! Maybe it's silly, but it's true. I'm reading Margaret Atwood's The Blind Assassin for the Atlantic's book club I mentioned earlier, and as I read I keep thinking, damn, she's good. I am not as good as her. Well, of course I'm not. She's Margaret freaking Atwood! Still, it makes me sigh and look at my writing projects and tweak and edit and rewrite sentences and then sigh again.

Oh well, back to work.

Soy is our friend.

2011-05-30T19:04:00.000-07:00

I've found that lifelong omnivores tend to be a lot more tolerant of my veganism than ex-vegans. Seriously, what is it with ex-vegans? A lot of them are downright belligerent. I've noticed this trend online (don't think I know anyone who's actually followed this path IRL) where former vegans become followers of Weston A. Price and start praising the virtues of meat and raw milk and stuff. It's kind of like former diehard atheists who become born-again Christians (or vice versa).

Anyway, here's a good article about the science (or lack thereof) behind the WAP theories and the health benefits of soy:
http://www.guardian.co.uk/commentisfree/2010/jul/01/anti-soya-brigade-ignore-scaremongering/print

Book club

2011-05-30T07:44:00.001-07:00

I've started reading Margaret Atwood's The Blind Assassin on my Kindle for the Atlantic Monthly's online book club, which takes place on Twitter. I hadn't read this book before, but it was on my very lengthy "must read" list. The schedule for discussion and more details about the book club are here. Join us! There are a lot of us!

Disaster birthdays

2011-05-26T09:50:00.000-07:00

My birthday is December 7 (Pearl Harbor Day).

My mom's birthday is September 11.

My stepdad's birthday is August 29 (Katrina day, for those not from NOLA).

I asked my guy if there have been any horrible disasters near our baby's due date, and he mentioned the bombing of Hiroshima...so now I predict that our baby will be born on August 6 (actual due date is August 1).

We'll see if I'm right.

Memories and truth

2011-05-25T09:38:00.000-07:00

NPR has an interesting piece about the memoirs written by Augusten Burroughs, his brother, and his mother. I loved Burroughs' Running With Scissors and Dry, and although I found A Wolf at the Table somewhat harder to read (because it lacked much of the dark humor of his other memoirs), it was certainly well written.

The NPR piece raises the issue of truth in memory - the emotional truth is what tends to stick with us, though the factual details can get fuzzy. I thought of my 30th birthday party, where my Playback theater group performed, and I sat in the audience as party guests told stories about me and Playback turned them into theater. Many of those stories bore little resemblance to the events I remembered. For example, one friend told a story about a day when I was called him on the phone, stressed and upset. He implied that my emotional state was due to the difficulties I'd encountered directing a play, coupled with the chronic unreliability of my then-boyfriend. Now, those things were present, but the friend omitted that he himself had just sent me an angry text message, and my memory of that day is that I was upset that he (my friend) was angry with me. I don't know if he forgot that part, but if I were to tell the story of that day, that text message and my reaction to it would be what it was about. Now I suspect, in retrospect, that my friend was never really that angry at me to begin with (I probably over-reacted due to my already stressed out state), and that's why that piece of the story was irrelevant to him. But it's interesting how different that experience was for the two of us.

I can only imagine the differences that could occur over years and years of memories, in the case of Augusten Burroughs and his family. His brother's account sounds especially interesting, and I plan to read it.

I've joined the tweeting flock.

2011-05-25T08:35:00.001-07:00

I wanted to join the Atlantic Monthly's online book club, so I have signed up for a Twitter account. Follow me and I'll follow you...I think that's how this thing works ;)

I'm chaikavegan.

Does baking count as nesting?

2011-05-15T07:03:00.001-07:00

We spent all day yesterday organizing the house, and today's plan is more of the same. I like seeing my stuff integrated into the decor...it makes me feel much more at home. Especially my books. I have two tall bookshelves, one with fiction and one with non-fiction. It's a good thing I have become a Kindle addict, because I don't have much more room on those shelves!

I wish I could say I loved every minute of the cleaning and organizing, but...not so much. I keep waiting for that nesting instinct to kick in. So far, I'm still a far cry from Martha Stewart.

One thing I have been really into lately is baking. For Mother's Day last week, I made this amazing blueberry coffee cake, which got rave reviews from the non-vegans I fed it to. I got a good deal on a LOT of local strawberries at the produce market, so I froze several for smoothies, then used the rest on top of these shortcakes, with some vegan whipped cream. And then today I made these cinnamon muffins - thankfully I made a double batch, otherwise the still-sleeping dude would probably not have gotten any!

The importance of revision

2011-05-06T06:52:00.001-07:00

I went to Jazz Fest again yesterday. The weather was lovely, Cyndi Lauper was great, and it was my guy's first time there, so it was pretty neat all around.

I recently finished another round of revisions on the novel I've been working on for two years now. I was so proud of myself when I wrote the first draft in three months, but little did I know that revisions would take much, much longer than that original draft. Of course, I haven't been working on it constantly during the revisions phase. I took breaks for months to work on theater projects, and this turned out to be quite helpful, because when I returned to my manuscript I had established some necessary distance from it.

But back to Jazz Fest. I saw something there yesterday that reminded me of the importance of revision. A musician announced that he was going to perform a song that he'd written "about three hours ago." Then he proceeded to start and stop the song more than once, to complain about the sound mixing (and tell the sound tech "You're killing me, here!") and to communicate with the band backing him on stage regarding what he wanted them to play. Once it became clear that he was actually going to proceed with the song (at this point, the tent began to empty out - some people had already given up on this guy) he started singing some of the worst lyrics I have ever heard. I turned to my mom, sitting next to me, and she said "I think he really needs to work on his lyrics." We ended up leaving the tent before that song ended. By the looks of it, most of the other audience members had already had the same idea.

Now, it is entirely possible that this guy is capable of writing good lyrics. I had never heard of him before and am not familiar with his work, but he did seem to be a technically skilled musician. The song was about something he clearly felt passionate about. But it was just not working. I have a sneaking suspicion that this is because he had just written the song, and was full of I-just-wrote-something glow, and didn't have any perspective on it yet.

I wonder if, a few months or years from now, he will come across the notebook where he had hastily scrawled those lame lyrics, and he will think, "Oh my God, I can't believe I performed this at Jazz Fest."

Perhaps not. Maybe he will always think it was a great song. Maybe it really is the best lyrics he can write. But most of us hearing him perform that day gave up on his performance because of that song (and, I suspect, because of the negativity and tension in the room when he started complaining to the sound guy). After all, there were several other bands playing on other stages at the same time, not to mention food to eat, art to admire, and everything else Jazz Fest offers.

Failure is a painful but important step in the learning process. I certainly can't say that all (maybe not even any) of the art I've produced is the absolute best that I'm capable of. But it's important to remember that your audience has options, and if you don't really strive to do your best, they are likely to give up and seek out someone else's efforts. You don't automatically get an "A" for effort. Practice, refine, and for God's sake, REVISE!

Cranky pregnant lady gripe of the day

2011-05-03T13:28:00.000-07:00

What happened to Sunday matinee performances, New Orleans?

I, and the old people, would love to see your play, but if you only have performances that start at 8pm, I have 2 options: try to convince David to go with me, or skip it.

Unfortunately, tiring easily + saying no to caffeine + living 1.5 hours away from NOLA means that I really can't start my drive home at 10pm or later. I drive up I-55 surrounded by swamps and pine trees and have a really hard time staying awake.

Heck, even before I was preggo, I liked seeing Sunday matinees. It was a not-as-busy time of the week for me.

Gah, I hate missing interesting plays :(

Jazz Fest!

2011-05-02T06:55:00.000-07:00

I survived an entire day at Jazz Fest while 6 months pregnant! I think I should get some "honorary NOLA citizen" points for that.

I love Jazz Fest. Yeah, I know...expensive, crowded, hot, full of musicians whose music is definitely NOT jazz...whatever, I still love it. My mom loves it too, and we often go together.

But here's the thing...my mom is a festival MACHINE. She prints out the schedule, she plans, she highlights, and she marches all across the fairgrounds, or French Quarter, or wherever said festival is occurring, never tiring. I can usually keep up with her, but not this year! So I warned her that I wanted to spend all day, if possible, with my butt firmly planted on a chair in a tent. She kindly obliged, and spent her extra energy going out on food missions and keeping me well fed and hydrated. Score!

We spent most of the day in the jazz tent, then headed over to the blues tent to see Arlo Guthrie at the end of the day. I admit, had I not been pregnant, I probably would have opted to see John Mellancamp over on one of the big outdoor main stages. I can't help it, I grew up with his stuff and I love it. BUT I'm glad I'm pregnant and lazy, because Arlo Guthrie was phenomenal. A great storyteller, with such amazing positive energy that you could almost feel the tent buzzing with it. I ran into some friends, ate great food (yes, it is possible to find vegan food at Jazz Fest!), and treated myself and my son to a full day of music. He's going to have to get used to the fact that is his mom is a hippie.

Preparing

2011-04-27T05:35:00.000-07:00

As I begin my third trimester, I've become more focused on the fact that this baby is going to have to come out of me...and relatively soon.

When I first found out I was pregnant, it took a while for it to really sink in, especially because the baby was so tiny at that point that I couldn't feel him, and although I began to gain weight immediately, casual observers could not tell I was pregnant. Because of silly insurance issues, it took several weeks before I was able to see the midwives, and I actually sometimes worried (this was among my MANY worries) that they'd tell me I wasn't really pregnant - instead I was crazy and having a hysterical pregnancy.

Um, obviously that was a silly thing to worry about.

Anyway, for a couple of months now it has been abundantly clear, both to me and the outside world, that I am, in fact, quite pregnant. And it's such a huge part of my daily reality that I've found myself having to remember that this is not my permanent state. Soon, I will no longer be pregnant. I will be a full-time mother. And in between those two states, I will give birth.

This is both tremendously exciting and tremendously scary for me. I really hope to have a completely natural birth, probably a water birth (yay awesome hospital with birthing tubs!), but I realize that it will be a big challenge, physically, mentally, emotionally, etc. As far as I can tell, the biggest thing standing in my way is my own tendency toward anxiety. I'm worried I'll get scared, and my natural birth plans will be derailed because of my own fear.

So I am trying to prepare myself, as much as I possibly can, to avoid this outcome. Here are some of the tactics I'm using, some very practical, some quite earthy-crunchy. Hey, whatever works!

Exercise - I am trying to keep myself strong, and keep my endurance up. I hope this will help me with the physical demands of labor and birth. I did my most challenging prenatal DVD (which I recently discussed here on the blog) this week, and I intend to keep doing it once a week for as long as possible. I've also been doing my yoga dvds and going for lovely evening walks with my guy.

Meditation/hypnosis - I've found guided meditation and hypnosis to be very helpful in relieving my anxiety. I've collected a lot of this stuff on my ipod and I have done it whenever I felt I needed it. Lately I've been focusing on some hypnosis tracks that are specifically geared toward pregnancy and birth. I was very attracted to the Hypnobabies method but I think the cost is a little much for me right now, so I downloaded a couple of other CDs instead. I know it's not a full program like Hypnobabies but I think it will be helpful.

Childbirth classes - These start in June. I'm excited! If nothing else, I want to meet some other local parents. I don't know many people in my new area yet, and it might be cool to have friends who will also soon have babies.

Red Raspberry Leaf Tea - Okay, okay, I'm a hippie. But I've heard good things about this stuff, and I figure it can't hurt, especially at this point in my pregnancy. Since it's already 80-90 degrees outside here in Louisiana, I've been drinking it iced. My guy bought me a large iced tea dispenser and I made a 1.5 gallon batch of the stuff the other day. I actually like the taste of it a lot. So does he, and he has been amusing me by saying "I think I'll have some of that uterus tea." Ha.

Watching birth videos - I am far too modest these days to allow anyone to take a video of my birthing process, much less put it up on YouTube, but I am very grateful to the less shy ladies of the world who have done so. Watching these videos always makes me cry, but whatever. It is so helpful to see other women do it, and know that I can too!

If there are any books, movies, or bizarre rituals that I should be including in my preparations, let me know!

Recent reads.

2011-04-22T12:11:00.000-07:00

Lately I've been into pregnancy and parenting books, but I'm also always a sucker for risky (I'm tired of the word "edgy") novels with female protagonists. Here's one of each that I recently read:

The Mother Dance by Harriet Lerner

I loved Lerner's The Dance of Anger, but couldn't really get into another of her books, The Dance of Fear. This one was excellent. Instead of focusing on the physical aspects of pregnancy and child care, Lerner wrote about the emotional experience of being a mother. With plenty of stories from her own life and from her therapy practice, she illustrated all kinds of challenges that come up when kids enter a woman's life. She talks about how your own childhood experiences play into your parenting style, along with cultural expectations and all kinds of other factors. It's an interesting, refreshing read.

Here's the other book I just read (in less than 24 hours):
Bad Marie by Marcy Dermansky

Marie is not a very likeable character. Or, rather, Marie shouldn't be a likeable character, because she does all kinds of morally despicable things in her immature and hedonistic journey through post-prison life. Yet, there is something wickedly alluring about her, and I couldn't put the book down, always anxious to see what Marie would do next. There is an interesting, though subtle, exploration of the haves vs. have-nots in our culture. I could say more, but you should really just discover this book for yourself!

My adventures with pregnancy workout DVDs

2011-04-20T10:36:00.000-07:00

Before getting knocked up, as I think I've mentioned here before, I was a huge fan of Spinning classes. I probably haven't been to a Spinning class since October of 2010. Now, I have no gym membership. When I lived in NOLA, I walked a lot, to do errands and for exercise (at Audubon Park). Now, I don't have a park quite as accessible to me (there are some nice ones in Baton Rouge, but they require a drive). Also, it is getting HOT outside. Yay Louisiana!

My solution: DVD workouts. I have three so far. I've found yoga to be really helpful in easing my back pain and anxiety, so I bought two of those:

Crunch Yoga Mama Prenatal Workout
This is a nice workout for the beginning of the day. The pace is gentle, but there are some great poses for loosening the hip area. This instructor is the kind of yoga instructor I prefer for an in-person class, too - she comes across as calm, friendly, and not show-offy or competitive. For those who are very experienced in yoga (I am not), this DVD might not be challenging enough. But I enjoy it, and I feel great afterward!

Prenatal Yoga with Shiva Rea
This one is a bit more challenging, but very easy to customize - there are 3 ladies, one from each trimester, wearing different colored full-body leotards! It's kind of funny. I found this one a little harder to follow the first time I did it, and had to pause the DVD a few times. It uses more props - blocks, strap, and a chair. Overall, I think it's great, but there are a couple of small issues I have: 1) you are supposed to breathe evenly, yet if I followed her "inhale...exhale" commands, I would not be breathing evenly AT ALL...so I ignore them, and 2) instead of mats, the ladies on the DVD are practicing on these lovely large square rugs...when I work on a sticky mat I have to change its direction sometimes so I can still see the TV.

My third DVD is more of a toning workout:

The Perfect Pregnancy Workout Vol.1
Before doing this workout for the first time yesterday, I was able to convince myself that I was still in fairly reasonable shape. HA. Not so much, apparently. I'm still doing some massage, so I figured my upper body strength was still decent. I also figured I still had a fair amount of stamina and endurance. When I saw that there were two levels for the workout (Beginner and Advanced), I figured I'd be Advanced. Wrong, wrong, and wrong. I mostly followed the Beginner instructions (though I did use dumbbells for the arm exercises) and it was STILL a challenge! In all fairness, when my baby's dad saw the intro portion to this DVD he commented that this woman, while pregnant, could probably kick his ass. She is BUILT. She is also lovely and has a cute accent. And makes me feel like a slouch. Well, now I have a new workout goal, and that is to do this DVD at least once a week for as long as possible. If I can manage to do that, surely I can manage to push this baby out!

Relocated.

2011-04-19T06:24:00.000-07:00

I went to Lewisville, TX this past weekend to participate in the American Association of Community Theatre's regional festival. I've been a part of an original piece called A-musing with Ashe Cultural Arts Center. We won at the Louisiana festival in February, so we advanced to the regionals. We didn't win in Texas, though - which I have mixed feelings about. The national festival is in New York in late June, when I'll be 8 months pregnant, so they would have had to replace me anyway. But it would have been nice for the rest of the team (who all worked harder and longer on this project than I did) to advance.

While packing to return home, it hit me that, for the first time in eight years, the home I was returning to was not New Orleans. I moved in with my partner (my baby's dad) at the end of March, and we live in Denham Springs.

I remember a few years ago, my sister and I (we lived together at the time) were thinking of moving to a new apartment, and we looked at some places on Algiers Point. We were unsure whether it would feel "too far" from downtown New Orleans. Ha! Now I'm a 90 minute drive away (if traffic cooperates).

I live in a subdivision with cookie-cutter new brick houses and no trees. There are no stores within walking distance. I've been forced to shop more than once at Walmart (which, among its other obvious issues, does not exactly have a great selection of vegan foods). Sometimes this still feels like a weird dream.

On the other hand, I now live in a 3 bedroom house with a big yard, 2 cats, and the guy I love. I've planted a vegetable garden. We've got a big compost bin, which for some reason I find ridiculously thrilling. Our son's room is gradually filling up with artwork, toys, and clothes that other parents have given me.

I'm still commuting to NOLA for work two days a week, and I've also visited often to see plays and attend French Quarter Fest. We recently checked out the Swine Palace Theater on LSU's campus, closer to home, for their production of The Metal Children, which I enjoyed.

The pace of my life has dramatically slowed over the past few months. I'm simply not able to work as much, to do as much theater, to exercise as much, etc. It was a big shift - much like the move itself. But I've found myself enjoying being able to really focus on one thing at a time. I do prenatal yoga DVDs. I cook dinner (I was doing that before, but it's nice to have someone to share it with). I finished revising the novel I've been working on for two years (finally!) and am ready to take that project to the next stage. When I was in Lewisville, I was able to direct all my energy to our performance and the necessary preparations. When I drove into NOLA for Playback rehearsal on Sunday, I felt fully "there," with no future responsibilities tugging at my brain.

I know this period will be brief. Believe me, every parent I know has informed me multiple times that this stuff will not be possible, at least for a while, after our baby is born. But it's where I'm at right now, and I'm enjoying the moments as they come, these days.

The way it is.

2011-03-24T06:04:00.000-07:00

This song was played on the radio often when I was a kid. I associate it with a public swimming pool my mom used to take us to. They would play the radio on speakers and for some reason I remember hearing this song there.

I'm told that I get frustrated - more than many other people, I guess, at certain conditions in the world that are usually taken for granted. I'm a passionate person and an emotional person, and things just get to me sometimes. I realize that many of my beliefs and practices are not common. I realize that behaviors of others that I consider offensive and appalling are widespread and not given a second thought by many (probably including the "others" in question).

And I certainly realize that, out there in "the real world," there aren't a heck of a lot of pacifists, feminists, and vegans.

I realize that I could spare myself some anguish if I could somehow learn to not let things "get to me," however exactly that is achieved. I realize that I am an idealist.

But here's the thing. I have been fortunate enough in my life to see and experience huge moments of change in individuals. And I believe that's where change in the world begins - with individuals.

I think of one of my personal heroes, John Lennon. If you listen to some of his early Beatles songs, if you look at the way he treated his first wife and son during those years...well, I'm not so sure I like that guy. But his later songs show a huge personal shift. His relationships with Yoko and their son Sean were clearly transformative forces in his life. It's inspiring.

I think of the group of people I met on the New Year's retreat a few months ago. It was amazing to share a space with people who were so open, honest, and working toward similar yet individual goals - just trying to grow and be better people, each person at their own stage in the journey, but on that journey, and thinking that journey mattered.

I know and have seen far to many examples of changes for the better at the individual level to believe that our worse behaviors are all we're capable of. There is much debate over "human nature" versus social conditioning. I can't say for sure why we are the way we are. But I can say for sure that we can change, we can grow.

So when I complain about being treated like a one dimensional sex object because I am a woman, don't try to tell me that's just the way men are. Because, guess what? I know plenty of men who are somehow capable of looking at a woman and seeing a whole person.

And sure, you can tell me vegans make up 0.001% of the American population (yes I made that figure up), and there are so few of us that we can't possibly be making any kind of real difference...well, I just think about how many MORE vegans there are today, compared to when I was born, back in 1980. Heck, I wasn't a vegan back then, I didn't start going vegan till 2009. But I am one now.

I won't even say that I'm trying for some kind of utopia where everyone starts to self identify using the labels (feminist, vegan, etc) that I personally choose. Frankly, I can't even picture that. What I like to see, what I hope to see more of, is questioning. When people begin to question "the way it is," they can see possibilities.
And after that...who knows what could happen?

Theater life of late

2011-03-13T21:26:00.000-07:00

I went to see Intringulis at Southern Rep last night, after winning tickets to opening night via a Facebook contest. I love solo shows and have done a couple myself in the past. I like to look at how they are structured. Solo shows can be great to take on the road, because you don't have a big group of people to wrangle (and pay). Many of them have minimal sets and costumes, because generally the performer does not exit the stage so there is no time for changes. This show had a simple set design that worked quite well. I especially liked the window that was used for a scene about a window-washer, and later used like a dry erase board with markers. Carlo Alban sang songs and played guitar throughout the show, which was a wonderful addition to his insightful narration and portrayal of several characters.

Personal stories can be so illuminating, and are often ignored in discussion of big political issues. This play brings an important perspective to the immigration debate.

I also have to add that they were selling vegan chocolate chip cookies at the show, and the opening night reception included some delicious fruit. Score!

As for me, the project I've been working on with Ashe Cultural Arts Center, A-Musing, won first place in the Louisiana AACT festival. This means we'll be traveling to Texas next month to compete in the regional competition. Working on a show while pregnant has been much more of a challenge than I anticipated*, but I am proud of the piece, which has evolved a LOT since I joined the process, and heck, it's always nice to win awards!

*Translation: I have been the kind of lethargic, whiny and overly emotional actor that I always found annoying to work with in the past. In fact, I find myself annoying to work with, yet I can't seem to snap out of it. I'm just not my energetic self these days!

Sigh

2011-03-09T08:01:00.000-08:00

When I expressed concern about whether I would be judged for having a baby out of wedlock, my sister told me to relax because "it is no longer 1952."

Apparently Mike Huckabee didn't get that memo.

Aren't we glad he's not the president? Let's keep it that way.

Brief thoughts on male attention

2011-03-06T17:22:00.000-08:00

As a child, I was awkward and weird and desperately wanted guys to notice me.

As an adult, I became more attractive and began to receive the guys' attention and I loved it.

Then I realized that when men think a woman is pretty, sometimes they project all kinds of other qualities on her, which she may not actually have. And when they find out she doesn't have those qualities, they feel tricked and become not so nice.

And then I became increasingly annoyed with and freaked out by male attention.

Now I'm pregnant and for the first time in my life I feel like it's not an issue, because men don't find pregnant women sexy (unless she's pregnant with their kid).

Random men don't think I'm hot and I LOVE IT.

Being pregnant has made me more pro-choice than ever.

2011-03-05T08:02:00.000-08:00

Ah, my poor neglected blog! It's been nearly a month! I'm sorry :(

I have composed several posts in my head but none here. Bad Bridget.

Anyway, on to the topic in the title.

I just read this article via Feministe, it's written by a woman who works as an abortion provider. It has inspired me to share my story.

When I suspected that I was pregnant this past November, my boyfriend told me that he would support me in any choice I wanted to make. He knew I was applying to grad programs and he didn't want me to have to give that up to have a baby if I wasn't ready. But we both also knew we wanted children. The question was, is now the time?

Our relationship was (and still is) relatively new, and we are not married.

I honestly did not know what I would choose to do if I turned out to be pregnant. But after experiencing several signs that indicated that I might be, I bought a home test. I remember talking to a friend once a few years ago, who was telling me about her first pregnancy, when she was still a teenager. She said, "once you see the positive test, something in you changes immediately." Her words were in my head as I unlocked my door, returning from Walgreens with my pregnancy test in hand. I took the test, and got a plus sign.

I know not everyone's experiences are similar, but for me, my friend's words turned out to be true. Once I saw that sign (which showed up IMMEDIATELY), something transformed in me. In fact, I somewhat bizarrely became terrified of having a miscarriage, even though just minutes before I'd been hoping the test would come out negative and I could continue with my life as usual.

Having said all that, I do think that several factors lead to my wanting this baby. Probably some kind of natural maternal instinct was involved, but that certainly wasn't everything. I knew I had a great partner. I knew he was supportive. I knew we could provide a child with a home and with everything else necessary. I was about to turn 30.

The thing is, I've had pregnancy scares earlier in my life, when all of the above things were not true. I don't know that I would have made the same decision back then. I am happy it turned out that I didn't have to.

I believe that choosing abortion can be the most responsible choice. Early in my pregnancy, both my boyfriend and I had doubts sometimes that we were doing the right thing by choosing to have this baby. We turned to our families for advice and they were all very supportive, which was helpful. But every situation is different, and I believe that women must have the right to make her own choice in this matter.

Pregnancy is tough. I've had to cut back on my hours at work, and I sure do miss the money I used to make. I'm giving up living here in New Orleans, my favorite city in the world, my chosen home for almost eight years, to move in with my boyfriend near Baton Rouge because he owns a house and I do not. I've postponed my grad school plans.

I chose to make all of these changes in my life. I would not appreciate being forced to do so.

That's my story, and that's why I'm pro-choice.

One of those days

2011-02-07T13:29:00.000-08:00

Well, let's see. Today I:

Missed my yoga class due to my own flakiness.
Decided the only thing that could possibly make me feel better was a whole wheat bagel with Tofutti cream cheese and sliced banana...only to discover that Whole Foods was out of Tofutti cream cheese (thankfully, Winn Dixie also carries it).
Tried to do laundry, only to discover that the washing machine in my building is not working, yet again.
Tried to mail a gift that I've been forgetting about for weeks, only to find it somehow broke between when I bought it and now.
Decided to clean my coffee maker and spilled coffee grounds all over my kitchen.
Washed some dishes and broke my favorite wine glass (which was dirty from my boyfriend's drinking...don't worry, I'm not drinking while pregnant).

I think the Universe is trying to tell me to stay on my couch all day today, listening to the Duran Duran Pandora station and self-medicating with some delicious vegan treats my friend Cate gave me yesterday. They are from a *new vegan bakery* in NOLA called Bon Confectionery. Their website doesn't seem to be up yet, but you can find them on Facebook. They even make vegan king cakes! Including *cream cheese filled* ones! I plan on ordering one soon, once I make my way through the caramel popcorn, fudge, and candied orange peels I already have. Which is to say, in a day or so ;)

Expanding

2011-02-03T09:04:00.000-08:00

Last weekend, I seemed to get dramatically larger and more pregnant-looking overnight. It became difficult even to squeeze into my "fat" pants. This brought up some mixed feelings for me. I love looking pregnant! It's great to see physical evidence of my baby growing. But I can't seem to shake the social programming I've received all my life: fat = bad.

I hadn't realized how completely brainwashed I was by that message. I consider people of many different body types to be attractive, and I'm not into celebrity worship or the fashion industry. I don't watch TV anymore, so I don't even see commercials! I guess I thought I was immune.

I lost about 15lbs over the first few months that I went vegan, in 2009. I found that I stayed thin with what felt like very little effort - even if I exercised less, my eating habits seemed to keep my weight relatively low (for me). I'm now 14.5 weeks pregnant and have gained 12lbs. I *know* weight gain is necessary and healthy during pregnancy, yet whenever I step on a scale I find myself having to actively remember that fact, to combat the little automatic voice in my head that insists that any weight gain is bad, and any weight loss is good.

I think it didn't help that I was struggling to squeeze into clothes that no longer fit in a comfortable or flattering way. So I bought some maternity pants, and...wow! I feel cute again! And comfy! I didn't want to spend too much money right now, so instead of buying maternity tops, I hit up one of my favorite local thrift stores (The Salvation Army Family Store on Jefferson Highway) and bought some larger, long and flowy tops. I don't think they're supposed to be maternity tops, but they should work for me at least through this trimester, I think. It was nice to have some new, pretty things to wear.

And then I had my monthly checkup with the midwife yesterday. More positivity and validation! It was just what I needed. I heard my baby's amazing heartbeat, which sounds like a horse galloping. Then the midwife told me that my ultrasound (which I had a couple of weeks ago) looked great, my blood work looked great, and she thought *I* looked great too. She said to keep doing what I'm doing, and don't listen to anyone who questions my vegan diet, because I am healthier than 90% of the women she sees.

I drove home grinning, and feeling pretty damn beautiful.

Three random things I'm digging right now

2011-01-27T13:28:00.000-08:00

1. My new Massage Star:

In general, I'm not a huge fan of using anything other than my hands (or maybe hot stones) during massage, but during my recent CEU class I got to try out a few different "toys" and this one I actually like. It fits in my hand well and is good for adding force without straining my fingers. Also easy to wash (some of the stuff I've seen looked like it would be difficult to clean...which really creeps out my inner germ-phobe).

2. PlayLab at Southern Rep Theatre. I hadn't gone to this in a while, and forgot how awesome it is. It's a venue for playwrights to hear short excerpts (or short complete works) read aloud by actors. After the reading, the playwright gets feedback from a generally thoughtful and enthusiastic audience of theater-lovers. And it's free! I've participated in the past as both an actor and a playwright, but this time I just went as an audience member. I got inspired, and wrote a new short play yesterday!

3. The Hey! Cafe on Magazine (at Napoleon). I don't know why I never went in here until recently. They have vegan stuff! Lots of it! Eclairs and cupcakes and vegan quiche and more! And you can get almond milk in your coffee drinks! Also the baristas are friendly and I've never had a hard time finding a place to sit. It's about a 20 minute walk from my house, which is good for getting some sunshine and exercise.

Vegan pregnancy and the protein thing

2011-01-20T15:21:00.000-08:00

Anyone who's vegetarian or vegan is familiar with the annoyance of being constantly questioned about their protein intake. I mean, it's not like we go around asking non-vegetarians if they're sure they're not eating too much protein, even though a lot of them are.

Most of the pregnancy books I mentioned in my last post recommend 60-70g of protein a day for pregnant women. That's more than I'm accustomed to eating, so I've been paying more attention to it than I did before getting pregnant. Then a good friend of mine gave me a book about The Bradley Method for natural childbirth, which she took classes in with her husband and found very helpful. Well, the Bradley dude recommends a whopping 80-100g of protein a day! My friend suggested I keep a log of my protein intake to see how much I was getting. On the first day I logged, I did manage to get around 80g, but that was with a LOT of effort.

I also noticed I was eating a ton of soy products to get my protein intake up. Soy milk, soy yogurt, vegan hot dogs, etc. Because I'm anxiety prone, obsessed with health, and enjoy torturing myself, I then had to Google "soy and pregnancy" to see if there were any issues there. Hmm. There might be. Or maybe not. Regardless, I figured it wouldn't be a bad idea to try to diversify and not rely so heavily on soy for protein.

So, off to the grocery store I went, where I bought a plethora of dried beans, almond milk, a colossal jar of peanut butter, and some Vega powder (which contains a blend of plant proteins, not including soy) for breakfast smoothies.

I'm not sure if I'll stick to the 80-100g Bradley recommendation. It just seems like an awful lot to me. The volume of food I have to eat to hit that goal is often more than I feel like eating. Also, I can't seem to find any studies or anything to back that recommendation up, just lots of Bradley advocates repeating it. If anyone has further info on this, I'm all ears! I'm a nutrition nerd.

Reviews of pregnancy books

2011-01-18T18:19:00.000-08:00

I missed yoga yesterday, but it was for a good reason...I got a glimpse of my future child! I'm 12 weeks pregnant, and I decided to wait till to see the ultrasound before spreading the news far and wide. Well, I'm happy to report that all appears to be well with the kidlet.

I found out that I was pregnant in late November, and it was a bit of a shock. I've always wanted kids, but wasn't planning on it right now because I was applying to grad programs and my relationship with my boyfriend is relatively new. But we both found ourselves to be quite happy with the news, after all, and are making the necessary adjustments to our lives to accommodate this new little person.

One of the first things we did was head to the bookstore, because I wanted as much information as possible, and my obsessive Googling wasn't quite cutting it.

My boyfriend and I sat in the bookstore for quite a while, flipping though various books. I joked that I was looking for one called Your Vegan, Feminist, Unplanned Pregnancy, but, sadly, that one doesn't seem to have been written yet.

On that first visit, I bought two weekly pregnancy guides, so I could compare their advice (yeah, I'm weird like that):

Pregnancy: Your Ultimate Week-By-Week Pregnancy Guide by Dr. Laura Riley, OB/GYN
This one has some neat extras, like a due date determining wheel and beautiful photographs of fetuses. The information is laid out well and fairly comprehensive. I also like that the author uses the word "partner" instead of husband and routinely acknowledges the existence of single moms as well.

Your Pregnancy: Week By Week by Glade B. Curtis, MD, MPH and Judith Schuler, MS
This one has similar information to Riley's book, but seems to focus more on the medical side of things than emotional issues. One thing I like about it are detailed drawings of the fetus for each week, including one that is actual size.

When I visited my midwife for the first time, her office gave me a big stack of parenting magazines and this book for free:

What To Expect When You're Expecting by Heidi Murkoff and Sharon Mazel
This book has a ton of info and I can see why it is the top go-to guide for that reason, BUT I have a couple of issues with it. First, they have a note in the beginning saying that they in no way intend to exclude single or unmarried moms, but they're going to use the word "spouse" throughout the book anyway, and you should fill in whatever applies to you if that particular word does not (I'm paraphrasing, but that is the gist of it). It may seem like a small issue, but I don't see why they couldn't use the word "partner." I believe almost half of the babies born in the U.S. are born to unmarried moms. Also, the information is organized in a manner I find somewhat hard to follow at times, but I guess that's what the index is for.

I found all three of the above books to be helpful info-wise, but they also sometimes freak me out with their detailed descriptions of everything that could possibly go wrong, even some things that, upon further research, I found out are VERY rare. Now, I know they want to be thorough, but I often feel anxious reading about all that stuff. They also focus a LOT on how important it is to gain the exact perfect amount of weight, which I personally feel like I have little control over right now. I mean, I eat really healthy food for the most part, but there are times when I feel voraciously hungry, and other times (thankfully, this phase seems to be passing) when I feel so nauseated that I really don't want to eat anything.

Then I remembered hearing about this other book, which I didn't find at the bookstore but easily acquired from Amazon:

From The Hips by Rebecca Odes and Ceridwen Morris
Finally, a book that really seems to get it! The layout of this book is really cool, with neat drawings of pregnant women of various shapes, sizes and ethnicities (the three aforementioned books had white women on the covers and no other pictures of women in the text). They mention gay people! And single moms! And the best part is, they have lots of quotes from anonymous parents, that show the true diversity of the pregnancy experience. It's not all sunshine and joy and flowers - they address fears about losing your freedom, worries about your body and your relationship...all kinds of stuff. This book is not as thorough as the others when it comes to medical info, but it covers the basics, and for emotional info, it is BY FAR the best. It also addresses a lot of parenting issues for after the baby is born.

I can't seem to stop reading pregnancy books (though I'm also hooked on the new Jonathan Franzen novel, I must admit), so I'm sure I'll have more book reviews in the future!

Resolutions

2011-01-13T14:44:00.000-08:00

I made two New Year's resolutions this year. The first was to do more yoga, which, technically, I have already achieved. I've taken 4 yoga classes so far in 2011, and I only took 1 in 2010! Seriously, though, on the awesome New Year's retreat I attended, I enjoyed the yoga classes and decided it needs to be a bigger part of my life. I've done yoga occasionally over the years, but it was never really my thing. After discussing it with a good friend who's also a yoga instructor, I realized that I just needed to find the right classes for me. And I'm happy to say I think I've done that!

My main goals are to gain flexibility and strength, and also to ground myself and decrease anxiety. I've been to yoga classes in the past that seemed sort of competitive and show-offy. To be honest, that probably only turned me off because I'm not super-advanced at yoga. I, too, can be competitive and show-offy when it comes to stuff I'm good at ;) I've found that I prefer the type of yoga where you spend a long time in one pose, gradually letting it deepen, as opposed to doing fancy combinations of several poses in a row. Therefore, I've started attending the "Restorative Yoga" and "Essential Yoga" classes at my gym. And, yeah, I'm usually the youngest person in the room, but I don't mind.

My other resolution was to continually strive to be kind and loving toward others. Sounds simple enough, but it can be a real challenge. I remember a line from a book I had as a kid, that said, "Be nice to the mean kids. They need it the most." I don't remember what book it was from, but it has stuck with me.

There's a vulnerability that comes with treating everyone kindly. They may not return your kindness. They may try to take advantage of you. Still, I've found the rewards to be much larger than the risks. When I think about the various things people have "taken" from me, or got away with because I was too trusting, they are very small in comparison to all the things others have given me, or shared with me. The generosity I've experienced from others is pretty amazing, when I think about it. Problem is, I don't always think about it. Sometimes I dwell on the negative treatment I've received from others.

Being vegan has opened my heart in ways I didn't anticipate. I started on my journey towards a vegan lifestyle two years ago, for health reasons. The health benefits have indeed been great, but there have been surprising effects on my soul. I feel that I don't place as many limits on my compassion now that, for example, I don't have to block out the plight of dairy cows to enjoy ice cream. Now, I know plenty of kind and compassionate people who are not vegetarians or vegans, and I realize that many of the choices I make, like filling up my gas tank, effect others negatively. But I think this particular lifestyle change has had a big influence on how I relate to both animals and people, and has helped me empathize and realize we're all in this together.

Here's to increasing the love, health and happiness in 2011!

P.S. The Russian approved of, and devoured, his birthday cake :)

Vegan Russian Napoleon Cake

2011-01-02T18:47:00.000-08:00

So...don't ask your Russian boyfriend what kind of cake he wants for his birthday. Just make him a chocolate cake or something and be done with it. Otherwise, he might tell you he really wants a "Napoleon Cake" like he used to have as a kid...which can be challenging if you've never eaten such a thing and it sounds pretty tough to veganize.

But, love makes us do crazy things, so today I made a vegan Napoleon cake.

Internet research informed me that the Napoleon cake basically consists of layers of puff pastry and cream filling. Further internet research informed me that Pepperidge Farm's frozen puff pastry is one of those accidentally vegan (but nowhere near accidentally healthy) junk foods. Like Oreos! So I ventured away from my safe and familiar Whole Foods, and went to a Normal Grocery Store (eek!) to purchase the puff pastry.

The cream filling was more of a challenge. The boyfriend described it as being similar to the filling in an eclair. I ended up making this recipe for coconut milk whipped cream, and also a package of vegan vanilla pudding (made with soy milk), and mixed the two together in my stand mixer. I thought it could be a bit sweeter, so I added some powdered sugar. The resulting cream was OMGyum.

Then all I needed to do was assemble it. The top has crumbs of puff pastry on it. This crappy cell phone pic (sorry, real camera's battery died) actually depicts an additional mini cake I made, because I had extra pastry and cream. I suppose I could have trimmed the edges to make them neater, but I'd rather have more cake than prettier cake.

I will report on the Russian's reaction later :)

New Year reflections

2010-12-29T19:07:00.000-08:00

I am leaving tomorrow morning for a short New Year's retreat on the North Shore. A friend of mine goes every year and she told me about it. My mom and my boyfriend ended up paying for it as a gift to me, because I've been under a lot of stress lately and they both thought I needed it.

My mom insisted that I go even though my uncle, her brother, passed away last night after a long hard fight with cancer. The rest of my family is en route to Nebraska for the funeral and I hope I didn't make a mistake, not going with them.

My uncle was funny and weird and crazy and everyone's favorite. He was my dad's best friend, they were in the Marines together in the late 60s. He introduced my parents to each other. He used to write absurd, rambling letters that read like Tom Robbins books. I found one last night and read it because I couldn't sleep. I laughed and cried at the same time.

There is so much sadness in the air here in New Orleans as 2010 draws to a close. Eight people died in a warehouse fire the other night, as they burned a fire in a barrel, trying to keep warm. Apparently they were friends of the person I mentioned in my last post. A friend on Facebook linked to this great blog post about the incident. When I lived in the Quarter I was often harassed by "gutterpunks" and sometimes I responded (verbally) with hostility as well. It was tough for me, especially as a "keep to yourself" New Englander, to deal with the constant requests for money, food, and attention as I was just trying to walk down the street. But it is important to remember that everyone is an individual, no matter what they dress like, and they are not all rude. And even the ones who are...they are still young. I am rude sometimes, too.

I've been thinking about what it means to be counterculture. In some ways I feel I fit that label, but in other ways my life is very comfortable and "normal." I always loved the stories my dad and my uncle would tell about their younger days - road trips, hitchhiking, drugs, jail, and the mostly unmentioned shadow over it all - the Vietnam war. I never lived on the edge like they did, like the "gutterpunks" or "travelers" of today do. The risks I've taken have mostly been in the artistic realm - I fear too much for my physical safety to take other kinds of risks. But I think about the longing for freedom, for adventure, and that makes sense to me. More sense than most of what goes on in this thing we call society.

Another New Orleans story with a sad ending.

2010-12-24T13:52:00.000-08:00

In 2006, I quit my full-time job to work part-time as a barista while attending massage school. My friends had bought a coffee shop and offered me a job. Many of the other employees had worked for the previous owners, and were, frankly, not very nice people. They decided almost immediately that they didn't like me. I wasn't sure if it was because I didn't look or dress like them, because I was friends with the new owners (who they didn't approve of, and stole from, despite all the new owners tried to do for them), or if they just didn't dig my personality, or some combination of all that. It made it tough to work there, sometimes.

But there was an exception. He worked the graveyard shift, and I worked the morning shift, so we overlapped a bit when I came into work at the crack o' dawn. We were given a fair amount of liberty as to the ambiance of the place during our shifts. He preferred to turn off all the lights, blast death metal, and burn incense. It was, after all, the graveyard shift. But when I came in, I knew my regulars, on their way to work, would never come in with the place in that state. So I'd cheerfully turn on the lights, extinguish the smoke, let some fresh air in, and play happier music. Strangely, though, we got along great. We'd joke around and talk about random things.

I remember one morning, I came in with my hair still wet from a shower and fresh hair gel. He looked at me and wrinkled his nose and said, "You look so...clean." His appearance tended more towards the unwashed and disheveled look. I laughed and explained that I'd just taken a shower, which he couldn't imagine was worth the extra few minutes that early in the morning. Then he walked over and put his arm around me and grinned. "Now you're dirty!" he said.

No, we didn't have much in common, but it didn't seem to matter. Sometimes we had long and fairly deep conversations. What I gathered from his past was pretty rough, though he didn't seem to think so, it was simply all he knew. He drew cartoons. Really good ones, actually.

I only worked there for a few months, before I finished massage school and was able to work as a Massage Therapist. We'd run into each other fairly often when I lived in the Quarter, and chat and catch up with each other.

The last time I saw him, I was in a hurry, and I didn't stop to say hi, figuring I'd just wait till next time. But there won't be a next time, because he was apparently murdered Thursday night. The end.

Drew Brees loves Earth Balance

2010-12-23T15:11:00.000-08:00

I worked at Whole Foods today, doing chair massage. It was busy and full of cheerful holiday shoppers (who tend to be great tippers - hooray!). At one point, I took a break, and got myself a couple of slices of vegan "veggie overload" pizza and a chocolate chip cookie. While waiting in the checkout line, I noticed that the man ahead of me was buying a case of Earth Balance.

Now, I love Earth Balance, which is the best vegan "butter" ever, but I couldn't figure out what someone would do with what looked like 12 or so containers of it, so I had to ask, "So...whatcha gonna do with all that Earth Balance?" I was hoping he'd say something like, "I'm opening a new vegan restaurant," but he didn't. He replied, "It's for Drew Brees. I'm buying it for Drew Brees."

I asked him, "Is Drew Brees a vegan?" and he just laughed. I think maybe Drew Brees is a secret vegan, and he doesn't want everyone to know, so he sends people to Whole Foods to buy his Earth Balance for him ;)

Or, perhaps, I suppose it's possible that this guy had a much less interesting reason for buying large amounts of Earth Balance, and made up the Drew Brees thing to try to impress me. OR, I suppose he could be a deranged Saints fan who decided to buy Earth Balance and present it to Drew Brees for his own deranged reasons.

But he seemed like an honest, straightforward guy. So there you have it, Drew Brees loves Earth Balance. And so do I.

P.S. I also saw Dr. John at Whole Foods today!

Christmas cookies!

2010-12-15T08:25:00.000-08:00

My mom makes 9 varieties of Christmas cookies, in epic amounts, every year. I don't know how she does it. I like baking cookies, but 2 batches (occasionally 3, if it's an ambitious year) are usually all I do. I also like to make different kinds from year to year, depending on what I'm in the mood for.

So far this year, I've made Sparkled Ginger Cookies from Vegan With A Vengeance, and these Dark Chocolate Peppermint cookies from the Oh She Glows blog, which I recently discovered. Both are awesome!

If I'm feeling ambitious today, I might also try out a recipe for almond cookies that I found in Veganomicon.

30 today!

2010-12-07T07:46:00.000-08:00

I haven't been very posty lately...I've had a lot on my mind, not all of which I can share right now. But! Today is my 30th birthday. I have to do one massage, but other than that I have the rest of the day free. I'll probably spend it reading and relaxing, for the most part.

I took the GRE last week, and was happy with my scores. I surpassed my goals for both verbal and math! Granted, the math goal was not particularly lofty, but as someone who, until recently, could no longer do long division, I think I did pretty well! And now I have a more expansive vocabulary due to my verbal preparation.

On Sunday, I had a tea party with friends and family, and NOLA Playback performed. I think this was the first time I've ever watched our group do a show...I'm usually on stage! The show was all about me, so I loved it ;) We're hoping to perform at more birthday parties in the future. As one of my friends pointed out, it's nice to share stories about someone while they're still alive, rather than waiting for the funeral!

My mom's delicious vegan apple butter cake was a big hit as well.

Let the bean-soaking begin!

2010-11-26T06:22:00.000-08:00

Thanksgiving was lovely. The pumpkin pie and green bean casserole were quite tasty, even according to my non-vegan family.

Today I'll be studying, not shopping (though I did allow myself to buy some shoes I've been coveting from Vegan Essentials).

I'm also going to start preparing my chili for a Chili Cook Off I'm participating in tomorrow! I'm excited, and I've got my eye on the "Best Vegetarian Chili" prize! NOLA folks should come on out and eat some chili...it's for a good cause...theater!

Tofurkey Day nears...

2010-11-23T21:11:00.000-08:00

The play is over, and it was a lot of fun. Our last performance, this past Sunday, was PACKED! The success of the show is definitely something I'm thankful for this year.

I'm going over to my mom's for Thanksgiving. She's veganized her apple pie and mashed potatoes for me. I'm going to make a vegan green bean casserole and pumpkin pie (using Vegetarian Times' recipe). Except I'm cheating a bit, and bought a pre-made crust for it.

We actually had an early Thanksgiving dinner a couple of weeks ago, when my younger sister and her fiance were in town from Massachusetts. I decided to try Field Roast for a turkey substitute.

I loved the Field Roast! But today I couldn't find any at Whole Foods, so this time I'll spend Thanksgiving with my old friend whose name causes me to be teased mercilessly by family members year after year.

Happy Thanksgiving!

A break for the night

2010-11-20T15:30:00.000-08:00

I'm getting a bit panicky about my upcoming GRE test, and I'm also cranky because New Orleans' water supply may or may not be contaminated, so I have to boil it and can't take a shower. Some people aren't overly concerned about it, but I'm a germ phobe and I don't want to get cholera. Also I was annoyed by the behavior of some of the Fringe crowd last night, as I mentioned in my last post, and I think I might need a brief break from crowds. So I've decided to stay in and study tonight.

More Fringe tomorrow!

Fringe so far

2010-11-19T23:55:00.000-08:00

First, To Moscow You Betcha! got reviewed by the Gambit's blog! Neato.

Second, I've decided to write mini-reviews of the Fringe shows I see this year. I am by no means a professional critic, nor an expert of any kind, but I love seeing and thinking about theater. I have somewhat unique taste, so keep that in mind. Mostly I just like to identify what works for me and what doesn't, to help me learn and grow in my own work.

Fringe started on Wednesday, but we had two shows so I didn't see any of the other Fringe shows.

Thursday (yesterday), I saw three shows:

The Women of Tu-Na House
I picked this show because I love solo shows (I've done a couple of them and hope to do more in the future) and because it was about a topic that annoys me. You see, as a Massage Therapist, I hate that my profession is often associated with prostitution. I've often wished the Massage Board had more power, or the cops weren't corrupt or something, and the "Massage Parlors" (of which there are many, here in NOLA) would get shut down once and for all. This show portrayed women who work in this type of establishment, in New York. So I was intrigued.

Nancy Eng was a wonderful actress, and the women's stories were quite engrossing. One thing that I thought was kind of strange, though, was that there was a note from Nancy in the program that said something along the lines of women freely choosing this type of work, however most of the stories seemed to describe such desperate situations that it didn't seem they had much of a choice.

My only issue (and it's a small one) was with the design of the show. It looked really sloppy, and if that was on purpose, I guess I didn't understand why. There were clothes and props and shoes strewn around the stage with no apparent thought. Overall, a very good show, though.

Before the next show, I stopped by the Fringe tent and listened to some energetic and talented young musicians.

The Liar Show
The premise is that four people tell anecdotes from their lives, and one of them is lying. The performers were funny, but my feelings about this show overall were kinda meh. (Hey, I told you I'm not a professional critic). I guess it just didn't feel very Fringe-y to me. It wasn't edgy or challenging or even that thought provoking for me, just kind of funny and cute. Maybe I would have liked it more if I'd won a t-shirt ;)

Snow and Flames
I almost went home after The Liar Show, because it was cold and I was tired. I'm so glad I stayed for this show! It was outside, and the performers had brought a fire pit. There was a smallish audience, and we all huddled around the fire pit in the cold to watch the show. It was lovely, actually. The performers were a mother and daughter who are both puppeteers. They used just about every form of puppet there is: rod puppets, marionettes, shadow puppets...even non-puppet objects that came to life through their skill. The show is hard to describe, but I found it beautiful, powerful, and immensely creative.

Tonight (Friday), I went back for more! I have to say, it was not as positive overall as Thursday. I ran into several drunk obnoxious people, who were being rude to fellow audience members, and even one who heckled a performer (thankfully, he was escorted out, but I was distracted for a good bit of the show by wishing I could sock him in the nose). Anyway...

Incendiary
I'm a big Southern Rep fan, so I had to check this out. It was a comic noir-type story, done as a radio play. The actors spoke into microphones and they had live sound effects. The script was very clever and wonderfully acted. I think it worked quite well as a radio play, in fact I had a hard time picturing it staged traditionally. My only complaint was that it ran longer (90 minutes) than most Fringe shows, so a friend and I had to rush to make it to the next show.

Home Made
I'd seen work by the dance company tEEth before, at the Sidearm Gallery a couple of years ago, and I must have signed up for a mailing list or something, because they send me emails. Anyway, I think their work overall is weird and wonderful. This show was very brave, with the two dancers naked throughout a lot of it (and dancing non-stop for an impressive amount of time). It was amazingly creative. The dancers filmed themselves for part of the show, with the live images projected on a screen behind them. It was passionate, often funny, weird, sexy, and very well executed. Bravo!

52 Man Pickup
I was a bit worried that this show would consist entirely of bragging about sexual conquests, but actually it was heartfelt, quite poetic at times, and courageously honest. Oh, it was also hilarious! Two feminist thumbs up!

Off to bed now...more Fringe tomorrow!

Success!

2010-11-18T15:11:00.001-08:00

Last night we had two performances of To Moscow, You Betcha!, at 7pm and 9pm. They both went well...I was especially pleased with the second performance (because I managed not to mess up my light and sound cues). I put myself on the light/sound board for two reasons: first, it's hard to find good, reliable people who will do tech for free, and second, it's good if I have a task, otherwise I'll die of nerves.

I felt so honored and supported as an artist (I know that sounds cheesey, but it's true). It really means a lot to me that I was able to round up a group of smart, talented people to give up large chunks of their time and devote so much energy to my project.

Today I feel like this:

Our next (and last...sniff) performance will be on Sunday at 7. Tonight I'm going to check out some other Fringe shows.

Opening night!

2010-11-17T09:33:00.000-08:00

Last night we had a great dress rehearsal for To Moscow, You Betcha!. The play is being performed in a bar, and there were patrons there who had no idea that we were going to rehearse last night. But they watched, and laughed, and loved it! Even the Republicans!

After that, we all headed over to the Fringe Fest pre-party a block away. There was free food (including great vegan options!) and booze and a cool crowd. I met some new people and we talked about the shows we're working on.

Now I'm looking at the Fringe schedule and trying to strategically plan my free time...so much to see! It's a bit overwhelming.

The final countdown

2010-11-10T11:16:00.000-08:00

With Fringe only one week away, I'm in that excited/nervous/overworked phase of the rehearsal process, watching the final pieces of To Moscow, You Betcha! come together. I'm still having these annoying coughing fits, but I'm too busy to take more time to rest, so I'm trying to take a romantic view of it by pretending I'm an artistic genius tragically ill with consumption.

Last weekend this consumptive genius went to the Mirliton Festival and the Book Fair, where vegan Mirliton muffins and an array of vegan cookbooks were happy procured. I ran into several friends who were also out and about enjoying the festivals and lovely weather.

I have to renew my national massage certification this year, so I was looking through old emails trying to remember when I took the test. Then I realized that I scheduled my GRE exam for the exact date, time, and location that I took my national massage certification exam back in 2006. I didn't do it on purpose, but I suspect my subconscious mind thinks of that date and time as "time for the big scary test."

So when I'm not rehearsing or preparing for rehearsal or working, I've been studying for the GRE. I've been known to work on vocabulary flashcards in the bathtub (with only one accidental drowning...sorry, "voluble").

Listen to me, I am feverish and feeble!

2010-11-02T07:21:00.000-07:00

I've been busy preparing for the play, finding and putting together costumes, props, and promotional materials. I'm also studying for the GRE, and then of course, there's work. I skipped Halloween this year because I just wasn't feeling it. I wanted to relax more than I wanted to party. I spent Sunday night over at my mom's house on the North Shore.

Now I seem to have caught a cold, so I plan to spend most of today on my couch, eating the banana bread that's currently in my oven, making my apartment smell delicious. I promise I'll drag myself out to walk 2 blocks and vote at some point, though.

My mom watches this program on public TV called "Steppin Out," which features a theater reviewer who used to work for the Times-Picayune. She was telling me about his comments on the most recent episode, which is available online here. My mom was happy to report that he brought up the issue of actors missing too many rehearsals, which has been one of my main complaints since I started directing. Mr. Cuthbert thinks that this is a recent problem, and states that there used to be a higher level of commitment in New Orleans theater. I always figured it was just the um...unique sort of work ethic that people have here.

OK, I know I'm on some dangerous ground here, as a Yankee and all, but I do have to say my experiences in New England were much different than my experiences in NOLA when it comes to work ethic and commitment. I remember when I was in college I was twenty minutes late to a rehearsal once due to car problems or something, and I got a very stern talking-to from the director and made sure I was never late again. Actors didn't miss rehearsals unless they had a VERY good excuse. Here? Not so much.

Then again, I don't think it's only limited to theater. When I worked an office job, people came in late, left early, and missed work often. People just don't work as hard in NOLA as they do up north. They have a lot more fun, though.

Maybe we should all start serving alcohol at rehearsals...

What I spent way too much time on today

2010-10-27T20:26:00.000-07:00

I will probably tweak it some more, I seem incapable of "finishing" it. I'm using GIMP which I never used before, so I have to spend forever searching the internet to figure out how to do things.

I also made the happy discovery that my laptop's CD drive is actually not broken, it's just that apparently iTunes decided it doesn't like it anymore. I needed to burn a disc of songs to use for rehearsal and decided to try Windows Media Player instead of iTunes and it worked. I've thought my drive was broken for months...I even bought an external drive (which iTunes recognized when importing discs but not when burning).

So basically the small things I achieved today took far, far longer than they should have.

Yay, DIY theater.

Personal experience, playback, and talking to men about feminism

2010-10-18T09:57:00.000-07:00

I read this post on Feministe called Unreality and the Politics of Experience (go read it!) and it was interesting timing, considering some other things that have been bouncing around in my head for the past couple of days.

In the post, Chally talks about having her personal experiences questioned, and how she thinks this practice helps to reinforce oppression. And I agree. In the comment section, a disagreement began over whether Chally is advocating for validation, and against "rational thought."

What's interesting to me is that the "rational thought/debate" model is the type of discussion that is more closely associated with males, and the "emotional support" model is the type of discussion that is more closely associated with females. Is this a coincidence? Nope, it's patriarchy.

The best explanation of the concept of patriarchy that I've ever encountered (and I forget where, so I can't give anyone credit for this) is "that which is associated with maleness is valued over that which is associated with femaleness." Note that it's not necessarily saying "men are valued over women," it's more complicated than that.

Recently I was trying to explain to a man who is very dear to me how I personally feel about feminism. I ended up getting emotional about it because it's an emotionally loaded topic for me, and because our discussion was frustrating for me because I felt that his focus on bringing up his points of disagreement with feminism was causing him to not really listen to me. He seemed genuinely surprised that I was upset, because he thought we were having "an intellectual discussion." And we were, but for me, it was also a discussion about my personal experiences, and talking about my personal experiences can make me emotional.

Many men I've encountered are far more comfortable with conversation that could be described as "intellectual," "rational," or a "debate." My dad is a prime example of this. He loves to argue about anything and everything. If you agree with him, he'll change to the opposite view, to try to steer the conversation back to debate. But my dad, and many other men, are far less comfortable talking about anything involving feelings. Whether this has something to do with biology, or is purely based on cultural messages about what it means to be a man, it definitely seems to be a strong pattern.

My issue (and this is where patriarchy comes in) is that emotionless, intellectual debate is often presented as the correct way to talk about issues, and personal experience and emotions are portrayed as inferior and less important. And from this comes the tendency to argue with someone's interpretation of something that happened to them.

I'm not saying we should never question someone's interpretation of their personal experience. But I think that questioning should only happen after listening and trying to understand where that person is coming from.

Most of us are taught how to debate more than we're taught to relate. I'm not sure about you, but my high school didn't have an Empathy Team. I think if there were such a thing as an Empathy Team, though, it would look a lot like a Playback Theater troupe.

In Playback Theater, we "play back" stories and experiences offered by audience members. When you're a player, you stand silently on the stage (in "neutral" position...always a challenge for me) and listen while the audience member (called "the teller") tells their story. You have to pay attention, or you'll be screwed when you try to play it back. You also can't talk at this point, so you can't argue with them. I admit, I have stood there listening to black tellers talking about an experience with racism, and felt an impulse to say something along the lines of "maybe your boss didn't mean it that way...I'm sure she wasn't trying to be racist...are you sure that's what she said?" That impulse came from a place of being uncomfortable with what I was hearing and wishing it could somehow be explained away. But, because of the nature of the form, I was not able to voice any of this (thank God), and instead I just had to listen. And then I had to validate the teller's experience by playing back their story. And you know what? I've learned a hell of a lot through this process.

I believe that learning to listen and empathize is just as important as learning to debate and justify one's position. It frustrates me that the latter is often thought of as more valuable. Trying to change that is one of the reasons I am a feminist. It's also one of the reasons I am an artist.

Fun with chickpeas

2010-10-15T11:29:00.000-07:00

Chickpeas are one of those vegan wonderfoods that you find in all kinds of recipes. When I first went vegan, I became obsessed with hummus, but after a while (a year and a half or so), I became kind of sick of it. Recently on a vegan livejournal community I read, people were talking about making "tuna" salad out of chickpeas.

I was pescatarian (for lack of a better term, though that one annoys me) for a while before going vegan. I miss fish and seafood more than anything, even dairy. You can totally find a vegan substitute for ice cream, but smoked salmon? Not so much. My cat misses smoked salmon, too (I used to give her some, and she would go crazy and meow and crawl all over me like a crackhead, seeking more. Or, like I imagine a cat crackhead would act, I guess).

Anyway, I actually used to *love* tuna sandwiches. So I decided to give this chickpea recipe a try. The key ingredient is kelp granules, to give it that ocean-y taste. This is the kind of thing I would never buy before going vegan...I mean, kelp granules? Sounds delicious, right?

Basically you just mash up the chickpeas, add vegan mayo, and sprinkle liberally with the magical kelp granules. I also added a little dijon mustard, seaweed gomasio, and sea salt. The end result tasted only vaguely like tuna, but was pretty damn good regardless. Surprising.

Now I just need a smoked salmon substitute...

This just in: college students drink and have sex!

2010-10-11T11:28:00.001-07:00

OK, maybe I'm a bad person, but I read the entirety of the Duke Powerpoint Sex List Thing and I found it pretty amusing. I'm sure it's an embarrassing situation for the guys involved, especially the ones who Karen found somewhat...lacking...and I'm sure it's an embarrassing situation for her, too, since apparently she only intended to share it with a couple of friends.

Still, I thought it was witty and it gave me a glimpse into a very different kind of college experience than the one I had. She seemed to exclusively go for athletes. In fact, at one point she wakes up in the morning next to a stranger, with no recollection of how she got there, and her biggest fear is that he's a townie. When she realizes he's a baseball player, she's so relieved that she hangs out with him for a while, watching ESPN.

Anyway, I was never into jocks, which is convenient, since they were never into me, either. I thought maybe I'd enjoy this oversharey list more if it were about theater majors. So I tried to imagine how that would go.

"I first noticed Subject 5 in Linklater class, when we did this exercise where one person lies on the floor and the other person puts a hand on their stomach to see if they're breathing properly from their abdomen...whoa, totally felt like he had a six pack! Later that semester, we were rehearsing "How I Learned to Drive," and we stayed after rehearsal, talking about how it just wasn't feeling genuine. So then we decided he should actually feel me up so we could use that experience in the work. Well, one thing led to another and we ended up in the lighting booth, it was getting really hot, but then he suddenly stopped and said, 'Wait, I never told anyone this before, but I think I might be gay.'"

OK, that's why there isn't a Powerpoint Sex List about theater majors.

P.S. Happy National Coming Out Day ;)

Messing with Chekhov...apparently a trend?

2010-10-07T08:18:00.000-07:00

Nerve has an...interesting story about Lindsay Lohan and Stephen Colbert, based on a Chekhov short story. The author has written a whole book of this stuff. I hope Sarah Palin doesn't make an appearance, because I like to think I came up with the idea of tossing Palin into Chekhov first.

I've *finally* got a complete cast (knock on wood) and rehearsals for To Moscow, You Betcha! have just begun. We've got a smart, funny, creative and weird little group of people putting their heads together on it. It's exciting stuff.

It all makes sense now.

2010-10-05T15:34:00.000-07:00

I'm not crazy, it's just this Saturn Return thing. Upheaval? Check. Restructuring? Check. Reevaluation? Yep, constantly.

I can't seem to stop obsessing about my upcoming 30th birthday and what does it mean and where am I going and what do I even want and...

These past couple of years, I've pushed myself a lot, especially artistically. The results were not quite what I'd hoped, but I've learned so much, and I have to hope I'm on a good path. I'm proud of myself for writing a novel, but I feel like it's not quite what I want it to be, and right now I'm stuck trying to revise it and get it to the next level. I've shelved that for the time being, hoping when I return to it I'll have some new brilliant ideas.

I've started my second directing project (since college, and my first was earlier this year), and I have high hopes for that, too.

OK, this blog post is beginning to sound like an Obama campaign speech with all of this "hope" stuff.

Although I am proud of how I've challenged myself and what I've learned, I am full of uncertainty. I want to make bold moves forward, but then I question the direction. I've found myself wanting things I previously had no use for, and starting to doubt what I thought I did want.

In the past, I've had challenging periods, full of uncertainty, but they were reactions to circumstances. Hurricane Katrina, for example, ultimately caused me to question the direction my life was headed and make some big changes. Now, it seems to all be coming from inside me. Or from Saturn, apparently.

The strange thing is, I'm not unhappy. I have a pretty damn good life these days. Best of all, I have some friends and relatives who really "get" me, which is great on those days when I don't "get" myself. So, why mess with a good thing? But I want to be better. I want to do something remarkable. I want to push boundaries, including my own.

And in a couple of months, I want a big party, and I want to have my vegan birthday cake and eat it, too. We'll see what happens next.

Cookbook love

2010-09-23T15:50:00.000-07:00

I was never really that into cookbooks before I went vegan, but now I adore them. Seriously, I want every vegan cookbook that exists.

After geeking out for about an hour on the floor in front of the vegan cookbook section of Barnes & Noble in Baton Rouge recently, I finally settled on this one:

The guy who wrote it seems so awesome...if only he were single ;)

So far I've made two things: Candied Walnuts (fast and yummy dessert when I was having a sugar craving the other night) and Chocolate Pecan Pudding Pie. For some reason I struggled with his pie crust recipe, though. After two tries, I really could not get something that behaved at all like a pie crust. The recipe calls for solidified coconut oil, and mine kept melting quite quickly, so that may have been the issue. The A/C in my apartment doesn't make it into the kitchen, which is roughly the size of a shoebox, AND I had the oven on. Still, I think a "soul food" recipe should be compatible with a hot Southern kitchen!

Eventually I gave up and went to Whole Foods and bought a frozen crust. And the pie turned out to be just as awesome as it sounds.

However, none of it was consumed last night, because my dinner guest and I proceeded to stuff ourselves with Seitan and Herb Stuffed Mushrooms and Maple-Mustard-Glazed Potatoes and String Beans, two recipes I hadn't tried yet from one of my favorite cookbooks, Vegan With A Vengeance. I ended up with WAY more stuffing than I could fit in the mushrooms, so I'll probably buy some more mushrooms and stuff them later.

Then the pie became breakfast this morning.

The World Series of Solitaire

2010-09-22T08:57:00.000-07:00

World Series of Solitaire - watch more funny videos

This is the short film my team made for the 48 hour film project last month :)

Recipe: RAW corn salad stuffed tomatoes

2010-09-21T09:19:00.001-07:00

This is what I ended up making for the Raw Food Potluck last week. I'd never eaten raw corn before...it's delicious!

Ingredients:

10 medium-sized tomatoes
2 ears of corn
1 red bell pepper (mine was big, I think we used about 3/4 of it, and my sister Becca ate the rest while chopping)
2 green onions
1 handful fresh cilantro
1 avocado
2 cloves garlic
1 1/2 limes
approx. 1/4 cup olive oil (um...I didn't measure and sort of just dumped it in. Oops)

Preparation:

1. Slice tomatoes in half *vertically* and scoop out the insides with a spoon (I saved the inside goop and threw it in some chili a few days later.)

2. To prepare the dressing, juice the limes and add the avocado, garlic, and olive oil. Pulse in the food processor until creamy. Add more olive oil if it's too thick.

3. In a large bowl, slice the corn off the ears with a big fun knife. Dice the red pepper, green onions and cilantro. Add the avocado dressing and mix it all up. Fill the tomato halves with the corn salad.

Current food obsessions

2010-09-13T15:12:00.000-07:00

I have a crockpot of red beans simmering in my kitchen. It smells amazing, but it's not ready yet, so I've been eating everything else in my house while I wait, because the smell makes me so hungry!

A crucial ingredient is this stuff, which according to the internet is vegan, but which I find completely perplexing:

I mean...what? And...how? Regardless, it's quite helpful in making vegetarian food taste...not quite so vegetarian.

Another magical food which I ate a lot of while waiting for my red beans is this stuff:

This is the best vegan "ice cream" I've ever tasted. My guy showed up on my doorstep with Coconut Bliss on Saturday night (yeah...I think he's a keeper). It has very few ingredients (especially compared to Soy Dream and Rice Dream and stuff) and the texture is perfect. I think the reason it works so well is that coconut milk has so much saturated fat. But I don't really want to think about that right now, since I ate half a pint in one sitting.

Tomorrow I'm headed to a raw food potluck. Red beans and rice is obviously a no-go, so I'll have to create something else. More on that soon.

Still up to no good

2010-09-08T09:59:00.000-07:00

I painted my design today. Painting is so calming and therapeutic...even when you're painting Sarah Palin.

Up to no good

2010-09-07T12:17:00.001-07:00

Today I worked on an idea for the poster design for my Fringe Fest play, To Moscow, You Betcha! If you hadn't figured it out, it's a Sarah Palin Russian nesting doll. Just a rough sketch, I'm going to paint it later. Visual art isn't really my strong point, but it's a pretty simple idea so hopefully I'll be able to pull it off.

The play is a theatrical mash-up of Chekhov's The Three Sisters and Sarah Palin.

The basics.

2010-08-30T12:54:00.000-07:00

A group of NTI alums in New York recently formed a collective, and they offer acting classes taught by NTI teachers. I'm on their email list, and reading about these classes makes me wish I lived in NYC. Except, you know, that it's cold, expensive, and eats little starry-eyed artsy types like me for dinner...

Anyway, in his description of an upcoming class, Michael Cadman said something that resonated with me:

I am most concerned to make opportunities for the students to overcome what seems to be a major obstacle in much of their acting: themselves. Without ridding ourselves of the need to be constantly monitoring our work, constantly worrying about what others might be thinking of us, we cannot hope to stay in the moment and be truly and freely reactive. I think we all recognize this, both from what we've read about acting and from frustration in our own experience. Until we have felt the power of simply listening and responding and realized the beautiful simplicity of it; until we have let go and trusted ourselves in the hands of our creative partners, be it writers, directors or most importantly our fellow actors; until we have sort of discovered it for ourselves, it is difficult maybe to believe this power even exists.

The pressure to come up with a clever way of delivering a line can be so distracting. It's easy to see when an actor is doing this, and it usually falls flat. Truly listening to the other actor(s), and responding to their offerings, is more powerful. I've seen actors come up with something funny in one rehearsal or performance, and then refuse to let go of that choice even as it continually fails to work as well as it did the first time. The thing is, theater is live. A play is a living thing. It's never exactly the same show twice. That's why the great choice you made last night may not be the right choice tonight.

The concepts Cadman describes are so simple, but so easy to overlook, especially in the high-pressure settings of audition and performance. Since I can't travel to NYC every week to take this class, I've been trying to apply these concepts to my own work here at home.

(Another cool thing about NYC is that I hear there's a ton of vegan food options there. Like, say, if a vegan found herself craving donuts, I bet she could find them in NYC. If said vegan lives in New Orleans, she has to make her own vegan donuts.)

Group projects and deadlines

2010-08-23T12:22:00.000-07:00

Earlier this month, I worked as part of a team to create a short film for the 48 Hour Film Project. I had participated in this project once before, in 2007. That year, I was only involved as an actor. Our day of shooting started early in the morning on Saturday and continued until well after midnight. Still, most of the other members of the team had been writing all night on Friday and still had to edit all day Sunday. This made my job relatively easy.

This year, I was more involved in the whole process, mostly the script writing. I also had a small but fun non-speaking role.

Our team didn't end up winning, but I thought our final product was funny and quite polished, considering the limited time we had to create it. The process was both stressful and exciting, and it made me think about my experiences with group projects and deadlines in the past.

In fall of 2002, I spent an intense and life-changing semester at The Eugene O'Neill National Theater Institute. One of our first assignments was to dramatize a portion of a novel, working in small groups. Staying up late to work on the first night, I became completely giddy and useless to my group, joking and - literally - rolling around on the floor. This was not amusing to the poor folks on my team who were actually trying to complete our assignment. One of them had prescription medication for ADD which she gave me, as a last-ditch effort to try to get me to function like a normal human being. Unfortunately the pill only caused me to be more focused on my mission to distract the others.

Looking back on this amusing but embarrassing moment, I think I was overwhelmed by the challenge of the group project, and my antics were a way of pretending I didn't care about it, when in reality I was so afraid of failure that I essentially gave up. I was also attention-hungry and wanted everyone to think I was funny, a common but terribly annoying trait many of us theater people suffer from. Thankfully, the next day I more or less snapped out of it and got down to business, but I'm sure I still caused our group to lose precious time and hurt the process overall.

Over the course of that semester at NTI, with classes 7 days a week and little contact with the outside world, I was presented with so many "impossible" projects and tactful but ego-bruising criticism, that I emerged a far better team player than I had been on that first project.

Working with a group is still a challenge for me, and there are a few questions I use to "check-in" with myself throughout group projects:

Do I need to let this idea go? So often, as the clock ticks and the deadline approaches, we can't seem to stop ourselves from obsessing over a small detail. Why can't the other group members see how brilliant our little idea is? I try to remind myself to pick my battles. It is absolutely OK to spend a few minutes selling the group on an idea that you feel really passionate about. But you are not allowed to get over-attached to every little thing that pops in your head. This will just hold the process back. The flip side of this is...

Am I resisting an idea that one of my team members is passionate about? Sometimes someone else may suggest something that seems a bit off to you, but is really important to them. If you kinda-sorta disagree with them, but they have strong feelings about their idea, step back and let them run with it.

Is it too late in the process for my awesome new idea? At some point, the group has to commit to an idea. Sometimes you reach a point where it actually is in the best interest of the group to trash that entire idea (and all the work and time devoted to it) and start fresh. But that is a last resort, and if you keep doing that, you will never meet the deadline. This means you need to let go of some new and awesome ideas that unfortunately popped into your head a little too late. Jot them down in a notebook and save them for a future project.

Is my awesome idea worth all of the additional resources needed to make it happen? To use the 48 Hour Film as an example, you lose precious time if you have to move to a new location or locate a new actor or drive to store after store looking for that elusive perfect prop. Is it worth it? Sometimes, yes. But not all the time. There may be a more simple solution that will work almost as well. Don't let perfectionism drag you down.

Basically, all of these questions are various ways of asking Am I listening to my ego or am I doing the best thing for the project? I know this is something I struggle with. But after many years of practice (also known as fucking up), I do think I'm getting better at honestly assessing my motivations. Group projects with deadlines are excellent learning opportunities, useful for all artists to seek out and participate in. Try it, fuck up, and learn :)

Adventures on the North Shore

2010-08-17T21:40:00.001-07:00

It's been around 10 years since my mom moved to Lacombe, and it's kind of amazing how much the North Shore area has developed since then. My mom recently went on a mission to find vegan food options in her area to try to lure me over to visit more often.

Tonight we shared an awesome vegan pizza at Mellow Mushroom in Covington, and it reminded me that I'm still annoyed that Naked Pizza here in New Orleans no longer offers vegan cheese. It will probably take me a while to get over that one, vegans are good at being bitter ;) I no longer "like" them on Facebook. YEAH, THAT'LL SHOW 'EM. Thankfully, they do make a great vegan pizza at Whole Foods, and I have leftover Mellow Mushroom pizza in my fridge, which, let's be honest, I will probably eat for breakfast tomorrow.

For dessert we got cupcakes from KC's Babycakes in Mandeville. KC's vegan cupcakes are also available at Fair Grinds coffee shop here in NOLA. The kind I had today was chocolate with coffee frosting and toasted coconut, and it was YUM. I think I need to try all the vegan flavors. Margarita and Fresh Lemon Macadamia sound especially intriguing.

Mathilda Savitch (Another great read)

2010-08-12T21:52:00.000-07:00

So, another of the three books I decided I desperately needed while killing time at Barnes and Noble was Mathilda Savitch by Victor Lodato. Just look at this cover:

Creepy girl? I'm sold.

Thankfully, the book was just as awesome as the cover. Having once been a weird adolescent girl, I think Victor Lodato did an excellent job with Mathilda's voice. Her take on the world was bizarre and hilarious, and the writing was sophisticated and beautiful while staying true to a young sensibility - not easy to pull off.

A quote:

"There is so little imagination in the world. A person like me is basically alone. If I want to live in the same world as other people I have to make a special effort."

See? Now don't you want to read this book?

P.S. I am working on the third book, I'm finding it to be not as much of a page-turner as the first two, but still promising. Also, Broken Glass Park, which I wrote about in my last post, mentioned the Russian band Nautilus Pompilius, which has become a current obsession. I have no clue what they're saying but whatever.

Broken Glass Park

2010-08-01T19:35:00.000-07:00

I needed a couple of tires for my car, and decided to head to Lacombe, the small town on the North Shore where my mother and stepfather live. There's a tire shop near their house that my stepfather recommended. Besides tires, they also sell homemade fig jam and pickled quail eggs, if you're into that sort of thing.

Anyway, they didn't have the tires in stock when I arrived, and offered some vague explanation about the tire truck driver "coming from Thibodeaux." I gave them my cell number and decided to wait at the Barnes & Noble in Mandeville, where, of course, I found three books that I absolutely needed to buy. Between the books and the tires, it turned out to be an expensive day.

I read one of the books in its entirety that day: Broken Glass Park by Alina Bronsky. It's a harsh story about a 17 year old Russian immigrant living in Berlin. There are no chapter breaks in the book, and the story is told in a sometimes rambling, indirect manner. But it works. I loved the distinct voice of Sacha, the protagonist.

I was happy to find a book with a teenage protagonist that was written for adults. My own novel (which I seem to be endlessly revising) has a protagonist who is 17-18 for most of the book, yet I feel that the subject manner is a little much for a Young Adult audience. So it was great to see an example of what I'm trying to do.

I highly recommend Broken Glass Park. I don't recommend pickled quail eggs, however, because they're not vegan.

Fame and fortune

2010-07-16T22:01:00.001-07:00

Since I've been ordered by a physician to spend all day on my couch eating,* I managed to finish the book I was trying to save for my upcoming flight to Massachusetts: High On Arrival by Mackenzie Phillips.

It brought me to the conclusion that I'm so, so grateful that I was not raised by rock stars. Sure, my parents were hippies, but they were relatively grounded and actually put a lot of thought and energy into raising their children.

It's made me think about fame. Mackenzie's mom was John Phillips' first wife - she married him before he got famous. John Phillips then left Mackenzie's mom for 16 year old Michelle, and they formed The Mamas And The Papas. Fame gave Mackenzie's dad (who, it seems was never exactly responsible to begin with) money and adoring admirers, allowing him to live in a hedonistic, drug-filled alternative reality where he could do whatever the heck he wanted. Sure, he may have still been a crappy dad if he'd never gotten famous, but he probably wouldn't have had the resources to expose his children to the kind of environment that money and fame allowed.

One thing that Mackenzie said about her dad toward the end of the book was that he had wasted a lot of his potential. She thought he could have achieved more as an artist if he hadn't let drugs and partying completely take over his life. I thought this was an interesting point, especially because he did achieve so much artistically. But he could have done more, she thought, could have continued to grow as an artist, and he chose to party instead. Because he could.

It got me thinking about myself, and other artists that I know. I think for many artists, fame and fortune are the worst things that can happen. This is not to say that I think starving artists are more pure or legitimate, just that many of the crazy, envelope-pushing tendencies that make for great art can become warped into self-indulgent excess when they're not kept in check.

*I should note, though, that she stressed that I was to eat healthy food :)

An actor tries to write

2010-07-12T21:04:00.000-07:00

When I started working on my novel, I noticed that writing dialogue came naturally to me. Since the only writing I'd done for years was for theater, this made sense. But I soon noticed, flipping through my first draft, that the manuscript was mostly dialogue. It didn't look like a novel. It looked like...a script. Oops.

My sister said, "you're expecting the set people and the costume people and the lighting people to take care of everything else. But there are no set people and costume people and lighting people."

So I worked on adding description to break up the dialogue. Anyone who's ever taken an acting class is familiar with the concept of motivation. You read the lines, and figure out what the character wants from the person they're speaking to.

My novel is told in the first person, so I ended up with several variations of "I wanted him to..."

Not good. I needed action. This is where my theater background actually started to help me instead of hindering. I acted it out.

I would mentally put myself in the situation, say the lines of lovely dialogue I'd already written, and observe myself. Sometimes literally, in front of a mirror. But more often, I just noted what my physical impulses were, then wrote them down. I should note that it was at this point that I gave up on the idea of writing in coffee shops.

My training in Playback theater was especially helpful for this process. Playback is improv, but not the comedic type. We listen to stories and experiences offered by audience members, then we act them out on the spot. I've found that Playback helps me get into the heads of others by connecting to universal emotions instead of focusing on differences. I often have to play someone who is not my age, gender, race, etc. It's the kind of role I would never be cast in for traditional theater, but it happens all the time in Playback.

One time, I remember I was acting out a scene and I actually made myself physically ill. I got so upset that I felt nauseous. I had to stop and remind myself that not only was it "just a story," it was a story I freakin' made up!

What can I say? Actors are intense.

Crepes

2010-07-08T18:46:00.000-07:00

People often ask me if being vegan is hard. It's a tough question to answer. What makes it hard for me is that it's less convenient. Eating out is definitely more of a challenge than it used to be.

Before going vegan, I thought the really difficult part would be feeling deprived of all the yummy non-vegan foods I used to love. Not so, it turns out. It was a pleasant surprise that I actually didn't feel deprived. Two of my dietary downfalls before I went vegan were dairy and sugar. I adored cheese and baked goods. Vegan baked goods certainly exist (as does vegan cheese, and the only brand worth bothering with is Daiya...the others are not so good), but they're not as readily available. I either have to go to Whole Foods, a select few coffee shops, or make my own. The end result is that I eat less sugar overall, which is a very good thing.

Sometimes, though, I get a craving for something decadent, and I will go to the effort to satisfy that craving. I think I brought this on myself by mentioning La Crepe Nanou yesterday...I was totally craving crepes today.

I made some, following this recipe on veg web, and filled them with Tofutti "Better Than Sour Cream," sliced bananas, and vegan chocolate chips. Topped with real maple syrup (I'll eat fake sour cream, but don't mess with my maple syrup).

They were pretty damn good!

A sad goodbye to Cafe Bamboo, a happy hello to DixieBee!

2010-07-07T15:26:00.000-07:00

I recently learned that Cafe Bamboo on Esplanade closed :( That was my favorite restaurant in NOLA since I went vegan (before going vegan, it was La Crepe Nanou, but I'm pretty sure nothing on the menu there is vegan...though I would love to be wrong about that).

As sort of a consolation prize, though, a lovely little juice bar/sno-ball/gelato shop opened up recently just a few blocks from my apartment: DixieBee. Not only do they have a wide variety of juices and healthy sno-balls,* but their gelato is made with coconut milk, not dairy. They will even make non-dairy shakes! Check it out, locals, whether you're a freaky vegan or not.

They're on Magazine across from Whole Foods.

*Flavored shaved ice, for those not familiar with this favorite NOLA treat. MUCH BETTER than the sno-cones you can get up north at fairs and such.

Work and results

2010-07-06T14:22:00.000-07:00

A friend posted this article on Facebook, which is about trades and manual labor. It's a great read. I could relate quite a bit.

I graduated with a degree in Theater Arts in 2003, and moved to New Orleans six days after graduation. After about a month of temp work and frustration, I got a full time job as an Office Manager for an IT consulting company. I worked there until 2006, when I quit to go to massage school.

I never fully understood what exactly the company I worked for did. Nor did I feel that the work I was doing was important, beyond general helpfulness to my co-workers. I spent a lot of time bored out of my mind, and tried to learn new things to fill my time. There were a few things I enjoyed - the IT guy showed me how to make ethernet cables and we re-wired the office (that was fun!), and I learned enough about various programs we used that I was the support contact for my co-workers (that was fun, too!). But overall...yeah. Bored out of my mind.

I remember one day, one of my co-workers, who was not usually someone I would consider very sensitive to the moods and feelings of others, said to me, "You look like you're suffering from a lack of artistic opportunities."

This was a surprising statement, coming from this particular person, but it was, of course, completely true. When I was working on a play, I found that I could tolerate my "day job." Sure, it meant long hours of rehearsal on top of long hours in the office, but I felt like I was doing something meaningful. When I wasn't in a play, I got depressed.

I used to worry that I would always have to have a "day job" that I disliked, because it seemed unlikely that I'd ever make a living doing theater. I am so happy that I discovered Massage Therapy, because I love it and people seem willing to pay me to do it.

One of the great things about massage is that you can feel results. This is something the author of the NYT article talks about - tangible results. If I client walks in the door stressed out and in pain, and leaves happy and pain-free, you can't argue with that result.

But I think this concept also applies strongly to theater. When you've rehearsed a show for weeks, and then it opens and you've actually managed to pull it off, it creates this amazing euphoria. You hug everyone backstage, even the annoying people that drove you crazy throughout the rehearsal process.

And sure, part of that euphoria is artistic fulfillment, the feeling of connection with the audience, the risk of the live moment. But another very large part of it is simply seeing the results of your work.

And audiences love to see "the work" happening on the stage. When a performer is fully immersed in their work, their role, the audience gets to witness the result of hard work. It's immensely satisfying. As audiences, we want to see them pull it off.

As the NYT article mentions, we live in a society where work is often about vague concepts and corporate absurdity. It's natural for human beings to long for honest communication and visible results. The theater can provide us with that. Now, if only it would also pay our bills...

The drive to create

2010-07-02T20:38:00.000-07:00

Last spring, I decided to write a novel. There was an idea I'd tried unsuccessfully to write as a play for years, and one day, while I was doing a massage, I began to think of the story as a novel instead of a play. Suddenly I had so many ideas that it was almost overwhelming. I couldn't wait to rush home and start writing. I had the next day off, so I ended up writing all night, and all the next day. That was at the beginning of April. By early July, I'd finished the first draft of my novel.

Looking back, I think there were a combination of things that put me in the mindset to pour all of my energy, my free time, my self into this project. First, I'd just been dumped. It wasn't a very serious or long-term relationship, but something about it hit me really hard. I was so depressed that I could hardly function. I desperately needed something to think about, something to have feelings about, other than the breakup. Once I started writing, I got over the pain of the breakup almost instantly. It was almost freaky.

A second factor was fear. I was afraid that if I stopped writing, I'd abandon the project. I've abandoned lots of projects in the past, but for some reason I knew it would be unthinkable to abandon this project. So I resolved to work on the novel every day. Even if I was suffering from total writer's block, I forced myself to open up the Word file and at least re-read what I'd written so far. That was usually enough to get me going again. One day, I remember I felt so blocked that all I did was type two new words, then I closed the file and went to bed. The next day I deleted those two words and wrote three thousand more.

I'd always thought of myself as a "theater person." All the writing I'd done since college was for theater. It was very strange for me to spend so much time in my own head, interacting only with my laptop. Everything about the process felt unnatural to me. But every single other thing in my life - my job, even basics like eating and sleeping - felt like an annoying distraction. I just needed to finish the novel. Somehow.

I'd had shorter periods of that kind of feverish compulsion in my life, but nothing like the months I spent writing the first draft of my novel. It's probably for the best that I'm not like that all the time - even if I didn't burn out, I'd become so detached from the world that I'd be left with nothing to reflect upon.

Still, I loved that crazy feeling. It reminds me of the characters in Close Encounters of the Third Kind, who become obsessed with Devil's Tower, though they don't know why. "This is important...this means something."

This is when you know you're an artist. People might think you're crazy. That's okay...you are crazy. If you can't get a little unbalanced when you're lost in the drive to create, you may have to ask yourself, is it important? Does it mean something?

All aboard the spaceship!

2010-07-02T12:59:00.000-07:00

So, I've started a blog. This will be a space for me to spout off my numerous opinions about my life in New Orleans (and beyond!), especially pertaining to the performing arts scene and being vegan. I've lived in New Orleans for over seven years now. I moved here on a stiflingly hot summer day with no job, few friends, and very little money.

NOLA has been kind to me, for the most part. One of the things I most enjoy about living here is the arts scene. Not only is it alive and active, but supporting the arts seems to be a fundamental part of the culture here. Now, when I say "supporting," I'm not necessarily talking about money. In fact, when I ask my friends to see a play or a concert with me, the response is usually "how much does it cost?" There are plenty of relatively cheap fun things to do in NOLA, so pricey arts events are often a tough sell. Thankfully, there are plenty of cheap or free arts events here. But what makes the arts "work" as well as they do here is the general sense of encouragement and camaraderie within the arts community. Other areas can be harder to break into, without a lot of influence and money. Here, artists welcome other artists, and support their efforts.

I'm speaking generally, of course. There are petty snobs here, too. But I haven't encountered many of them.